Hello there! As a continuation of last week (and through upcoming Fridays) things are going to be a little bit different today. How, you might ask? Well, with Axtara 2 drawing ever close to flying free into the world, I thought it would be nice if those of you who are Axtara fans could have a little something to tide you over in the meantime.

No, it’s not a preview of Axtara 2 (that will comer later), but it’s close. For those who read Axtara – Banking and Finance, you might recall mention of Axtara’s older sibling, Ryax, who was apprenticed to be a wizard. And if you ever wondered what happened with that, well … Today (and each coming Friday) is your lucky day. Because this is Ryax’s story. Until now a Patreon Supporter Exclusive, Ryax’s solo outing is now coming to the site.

And who knows. Maybe you’ll see him in Axtara 2. For now, kick back, and enjoy part two of A Trial For a Dragon. In four parts, one part each week. This bit is part two, so if you missed part one, you might want to check that out here. As always, enjoy.

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A Trial For a Dragon – Part Two

By the time one of the inn’s employees arrived the next morning to signal second bell, Ryax was already awake, making last-minute preparations. Twice someone checked on him afterwards, curious about the source of the rapid-tapping they’d heard against the floorboards, and he’d stilled his claws until—engrossed in his studies—he’d forgotten and begun the whole process over.

However, he wasn’t so engrossed that time entirely slipped past him, and he arrived on the promenade before the council chambers with a quarter hour to spare.

At least it’s a beautiful morning. The sky was clear and bright, a little more clouded than the day before but still not nearly enough to hide the warm blue. Maybe a celebratory flight would be in order after his trial.

If it turns out—No, it will! You know everything you possibly could know. Three wizards have declared you overly prepared! This will be easy!

The mental reassurance didn’t drive the clenching nervousness from his gut, though. Or stave off the occasional tremor in his wings. He walked around the grounds, noting the individuals dressed in blue-and-white livery tending to them.

Odd, he thought as he passed one. Aren’t those the colors of the royal family?

Maybe there was a subtle difference he was missing. Something to do with symbols or patterns on their coats. There was a nation across the Scented Ocean that was like that, where the color was unimportant but the type of stitching used in the cloth denoted one’s rank and station.

The midday bell surely had to be getting close. How long had he been walking the grounds? He hurried over to the front steps and then slowed to a stop, checking himself to make sure that he was presentable.

Scales shined? Breath freshened? Nothing stuck in my teeth? Satchel? He’d debated over wearing some finery, a ruff or some jewelry, but ultimately decided against it. Good. Clean but humble.

His wings and tail were both trembling with nervous excitement, and he forced them to be still, making his way carefully up the steps. Rietillian Council of Wizards. The words above the frame seemed to bear a weight. The passage was again open, and as he made his way through a familiar face looked up from the desk.

“Ryax … the Dedicated?”

“Yes,” he said, bowing his head slightly at Shanlee, which seemed to both please and embarrass her. “I’m not late, I hope?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “You are—” Her eyes darted to a nearby timepiece. “—early. They’re still in recess after meeting the last candidate.”

“Ah, good. I didn’t spend too much time walking the grounds.”

She shook her head once more. “No, you still have time. In a moment I’ll let them know that you’ve arrived.”

“Have there been many other trials today?”

“Only two thus far,” she said, tapping one finger atop the desk. “Letter of—” She caught herself. “Letters of recommendation, please?”

He obliged, opening his small satchel. “Have any passed?”

“None.” A shiver ran through his wings, and she cringed. “Sorry, that was indelicate.”

“But only two have arrived for their trial,” he said. “Two failures isn’t enough to predict an entire day’s worth.”

“Very true,” she said as she took the letters from his claws. “And neither of them was half as prepared as you are. One of them hadn’t even trained under a wizard. Just a former apprentice.” She rose, pushing her chair back with a faint scrape. “I’ll let them know you’re here.”

She walked over to the rearmost doors in the room, the ornate ones he’d singled out the day before, giving them a quiet knock and then slipping inside.

Ornate, but not large, he noted. He would be forced to duck through them with his wings held tight, unless …

I suppose it cannot hurt to begin with a display of skill, he thought as the door cracked open again, Shanlee darting through as if something were nipping at her heels, skirt swirling around her. She wasn’t clad in the same livery of those working the grounds, he noted, neither color nor style matching. Interesting. But then again, she is apprenticed to one of the council wizards.

“You may enter,” Shanlee said, sitting at her desk once more. She no longer had the letters. “They’re ready for you.”

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment and slowly exhaling, willing himself to relax. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling. “And … good luck.”

He stepped over to the doors, already holding a spell in his mind and willing the magic out into the space around his body. The world appeared to warp slightly, growing larger, though to an outsider it would have appeared that he’d grown smaller. From behind him he heard a gasp.

“Did you just shrink yourself with a spell?”

He stopped and twisted his head, looking back past his wings at Shanlee’s wide eyes. “No,” he said, smiling. “I merely convinced space that I am smaller than I am.”

Shanlee’s expression switched to one of puzzlement. “Is there a difference?”

His smile widened. “Of course!” With that, he turned and stepped into the council chambers, the doors swinging shut behind him.

At first glance the chambers themselves weren’t too impressive. The room was wide and circular, the floor made of stone. It smelled faintly of soot, and he could see a few scorch marks in the center, perhaps from earlier trials. Lights high above filled the space with a soft glow while all around him, backed by tall windows and sitting at a raised dais that ringed the room, were the council. Fifteen of the most respected wizards in the empires, clad in formal wear of all colors and style.

A number of them were talking with one another, their voices adding a faint, whispering ambiance to the room. Several looked up at him as he entered, but then quickly went back to speaking among their neighbors, so he took a moment as he walked forward to take each of them in.

Some of them he recognized, if only by reputation. Ava had always told him that Jacopo’s beard was a sight to behold, and that easily narrowed his identity to two of the wizards on the council, both with beards so long that they vanished behind the dais. Sel had declared Councilmember Sanyu proud of his ancient heritage, and that marked him as the wizard with pointed ears on obvious display. Flashes of bronze caught his eye, from tiny plaques embedded in the dais before each councilmember.

They’re facing outward, so they can’t be to identify their seats, but they’re so small anyone that they were speaking with probably wouldn’t be able to read them. Is that intentional?

He stopped in the middle of the room, unsure of where to look but settling for reading each of the tiny plaques, finding both Jacopo and Sanyu, as well as Hyal, Shanlee’s teacher, a thin-faced individual with what looked like a permanent frown. He scanned through the rest of the council wizards, waiting to be addressed and noting one detail.

They were all human, though of varying backgrounds. Nine men, six women.

One cleared his throat, looking right at Ryax. “Well?” the wizard asked, giving him a pointed, but almost bored, look. “Get on with it, beast. Who’s the message for? We don’t have all day.”

He felt a faint flash of discomfort at the term beast but ignored it, sitting back on his haunches instead. “I am not a courier. I am Ryax the Dedicated. I am here for my trial.”

The whispered conversation cut out.

“Excuse me?” the wizard asked, cocking his head slightly to one side. “You said you’re Ryax?”

“Impossible,” another wizard said, his voice echoing through the room. “You can’t be Ryax. Quit wasting our time, dragon, and deliver your message. Is this Ryax running late?”

“He can’t be running late,” another wizard pointed out. “Hyal’s apprentice just brought his letters in and informed us that he was here.”

“I am here,” Ryax said, fighting to keep his wings still as he spoke. For added effect he dismissed the spell he’d used to enter the room, the world around him shifting slightly as the universe saw him properly once more. Several of the wizards pulled back in surprise. Even with that aspect of space stabilized, the plaques he’d seen were still too small. “I am ready for my trial.”

“I believe he’s telling the truth,” said another councilmember. “What reason would he have to lie?”

“But a dragon?”

“It is unusual.”

“It’s a foolish joke is what it is. Little wonder we have not heard from Sel in almost a decade if this is the sort of pupil she sends us.”

“Councilmembers!” The raised voice from one of the wizards called the room to silence, and five familiar-looking pieces of paper floated into the air above the wizard’s head. “Regardless, I have examined the letters. Each of them is genuine. Ryax the Dedicated has been presented to the council by no less than five of our fellow wizards as a candidate for the trials. And we have already accepted—” Ryax didn’t miss the emphasis put on the words. “—that candidacy.”

“I’ll need to have words with my apprentice,” Hyal muttered, quietly enough that he likely thought Ryax hadn’t heard.

“Oh very well,” the first wizard said. The one who had referred to him as a “beast.” “If we must.”

“We must,” the prior wizard said again. “But rather than argue semantics, perhaps we should test this apprentice’s skill and knowledge of magic? After all, this is a trial of Ryax’s skill and knowledge. Let us see what would cause Elvoto of Elmsbridge to speak in such glowing terms.”

“Very well,” another wizard said, and he couldn’t tell if their tone was approving or disappointed. “I’ll begin. A moment ago you shifted size. What sort of spell was that? Explain it.”

Time passed quickly as he was questioned from every side, asked to recite increasingly esoteric arcane principles, and perform spell after spell by each of the council members. Sometimes they would stay on a single subject, quizzing him on every aspect and angle. Other times they would change topics without warning, leaping from illusions to biology and asking entirely new questions far-ranging from the old ones.

He answered increasingly difficult hypotheticals, members calling on him to answer what he would do if asked to find a missing child using only magic, or how he would respond if asked to craft a spell to project a message to a far-off individual.

He felt wrung out by the time Shanlee entered to warn the council that their next appointment had arrived, as if he’d been caught flying in a heavy storm and chosen to power through it rather than do the sensible thing and land. His head hurt, he was tired, and his whole body felt lethargic from casting after casting. He had to look exhausted, even as hard as he was trying to appear ready to continue.

“Well,” one of the wizards said as Ryax finished demonstrating Gandriarch’s Principles of Levitation with a series of weights. “Members of the council, I believe we have quite thoroughly put young Ryax through his paces. What do we think?”

“I think he displays an impressive aptitude for magical control,” one wizard said, leaning forward in her seat. Ryax felt his spirits lift slightly. “But that could simply be by his very nature as a dragon. Impressive, but I remain unconvinced.”

Don’t let them see your disappointment. She had, he recalled, been one of the wizards that had asked some of the more difficult questions of him. Maybe she’s simply stern.

“Really?” one of the other wizards contested. “Because I’m impressed. Few apprentices submitting themselves to a trial would be able to so thoroughly explain the differences between Adricarle’s approach to basic spellwork and Nivian’s.”

“You just think that because you’ve never respected Nivian,” one of the other wizards shot back. “His answer was a joke. Refused.”

It was as if the woman’s words were a spark, as each of the wizards began arguing amongst one another, voices raised as they contested that he should be admitted, refused, or some other option entirely. Ryax felt his tail curl slightly as the arguments rose in volume. Is this how they always are with their decisions?

Or is it simply because I’m not human? It hadn’t been hard to note that many of the more difficult questions, demands for a demonstration, or abrupt changes in topic had come from the wizard that had called him a beast when he’d first entered, or those that seemed to agree with him.

“Silence!” A loud crack accompanied the shout, debate dying as the sound echoed through the chamber. One of the wizards stood, the same one who’d handled his letters earlier. He glanced at their plaque.

Soban.

“Thank you,” Soban said once the noise had died down. “If I may, I’d like to ask one more question of this apprentice before we render a decision, if a consensus can be reached at this time.” He turned his focus toward Ryax. “Why do you wish to be recognized as a wizard?”

“To study magic,” he said quickly, the answer already on the tip of his tongue. “Not as an apprentice does, or as some minor fascination or dalliance, but as a complete, serious, lifetime of work. To dig deep into the magical mysteries of the world. I’ve been entranced by magic ever since I could breathe fire. How does it function? What makes a spell work in one way but not another? Why, for example, does ascribing numbers to a matrix impact some approaches but not all?”

“Furthermore,” he continued. “I am most intrigued by the magic of the ancients, or what little of it is left. How did their spells function differently from ours? What differences have we learned based on how we were taught, and how does that impact what we are capable of? Can magic be used in new ways? Are there fundamental theories that we can explore in new ways? Or that we haven’t even discovered yet?”

“I want to be able to travel the empires and study.” He spread his wings slightly, pulling himself up to his full height. “To see how one small practitioner somewhere may perform the same kind of magic in a completely different manner from a fully-recognized wizard, or even another like them in a different location. To bridge the gaps in magical knowledge, or perhaps discover new branches we’ve yet to find.”

The faces around him had taken on a curious cast. A few looked interested in his words. Several looked confused. But more looked … unhappy, the very expressions enough to make him feel as though he needed to flap his wings to keep himself aloft. He drove onward.

“There’s so much to magic that we don’t know. We have books, yes, but the combined writings of all known wizards would only fill a few bookshelves at most. That cannot be the sum total of knowledge of magic, and we know that it is not, because there’s so much we do not understand.”

“Magic,” one of the wizards said, her voice loud and low. “Is not supposed to be understood. It is magic.”

He took a gamble, turning to face her. “And yet we write down what we understand of it anyway,” he countered. “We learn new ways of making it work, of using those energies in the world to further our own goals. Steam power, and the trains that now stretch across the lands, are not possible without an understanding of magic. Such progress implies that there is more to learn, more to know.”

The wizard who had spoken had a sour expression now, like she’d bitten a rotten apple. “I disagree,” she said simply, before sitting and continuing to scowl.

He needed to keep the momentum going. Needed to stay airborne. “Wizards of the council, there is always more to learn, more to discover. Earning the title of wizard will open many doors to me that would otherwise be shut. The title of wizard invites patronage, it adds legitimate, recognized authority to one’s works and findings. I have spent my past years studying under a series of successive and well-regarded wizards, learning all that I could from them in the pursuit of unlocking further mysteries of magic, or perhaps even finding a few new ones. I ask that I be granted the title of wizard in recognition of my efforts and my accomplishments, that I may be able to continue advancing the knowledge of wizards and magic users everywhere.”

His last choice of words, he noted, seemed to have rubbed a few of the councilmembers the wrong way, but it was too late to call them back. Several other members, however, were nodding, if not in agreement with everything he’d said, then at least some sort of grudging respect.

It was the wizard that had called him “beast” who spoke first. “Denied.”

“You don’t have that authority alone, Pinel,” another councilmember shot back. “I’m not convinced, but I’m not so eager to—”

“Admit a dragon?” another councilmember said. It was Hyal, Shanlee’s master.

“His knowledge of magical theory is impressive.”

“Anyone can be trained to provide the right answers.”

“As intensely as we questioned him? And with examples? Hogath, if it were your own student, you’d have—”

“Enough!” Another crack rent the air, again from Soban’s position. “I have the floor.” He waited until all conversation had died, then turned his eyes toward Ryax.

“Apprentice Ryax the Dedicated,” he said. “It appears that at this time the Rietillian Council of Wizards has not reached a conclusion. This is not unprecedented. Therefore, we ask that you return tomorrow, in order to give us time to conduct the remainder of today’s trials and deliberate amongst ourselves concerning yours. Speak with the apprentice outside. If necessary, have her reschedule someone else’s trial. You may leave.”

He bowed slightly, heart sinking but not dropping. “Thank you, councilmembers.” The room stayed silent as he turned and walked to the doors, pausing before the door to once again apply the same spell he had before, convincing the world that he was smaller than he was and stepping through.

A human woman on the other side of the doors stepped back in surprise as he passed through the doorway, her eyes widening.

“My apologies,” he said, inclining his head slightly at her. “If you’re here for your trial, I may have kept you from it.” She was tall for a human, almost as tall as he was with the spatial readjustment applied.

“She is, but she’s early,” Shanlee said from the desk. She rose from her seat, a letter in one hand. “Well, what’d—?” She shook her head. “One moment. I need to announce Aryanna to the council.” She stepped through the doorway, shutting both doors behind her.

“Excuse me, Aryanna,” Ryax said, stepping past the woman, who was still giving him a wide-eyed look. Not familiar with dragons then. He dropped the spatial spell as soon as there was sufficient room, the world around him warping once more.

He felt exhausted. The spatial distortion spell wasn’t easy to perform, and twice in one day was taxing. Especially after my trial. Part of him wanted to simply drop his carefully held posture and slump to the floor, but …

Not until I’m off the grounds, he thought as the doors to the chambers opened once more, Shanlee stepping up to the woman and politely ushering her inside. Only once the doors were shut did she turn and look at him, her eyes narrowed with … suspicion?

“You were in there for hours,” she said. “I was worried I was going to have to postpone someone else’s trial.” He turned, looking at her as she sat down behind her desk.

“You may yet,” he said. “They didn’t reach an agreement.”

If it were possible for a human’s eyes to pop out of their head through sheer surprise, he supposed, then Shanlee’s reaction would have put her at a very high risk.

“What do you mean they couldn’t—” She cut herself off, half-sinking back into her seat, then frowned. “That’s … I’m sorry, Ryax. I would have thought that simply the spell you used to enter the door would have been enough, but …”

He shook his head again. “They were surprised and shocked by my aptitude.” As well as my species. “But that only led them to test me more thoroughly.”

“Because you’re skilled?” Shanlee asked, one shoulder lifting slightly. Combined with the pursed lips, it was a gesture he recognized. She didn’t believe her own words, though she’d just spoken them. Not entirely.

“Well, that was certainly part of it.” It was the best he could do. Addressing it directly so close to the chambers could be dire, even if he was fairly certain. “I do feel as though I’ve flown a few hundred leagues today now that it’s over. They asked that you put me on the schedule for tomorrow, so that they can have time for debate. Even if that means postponing another trial.”

Shanlee frowned and picked up one of the parchment pieces. “Not midday,” she said, “but an hour after. Will that work for you?”

“Yes.” I can likely arrange with the innkeeper to have my room for another day. Or perhaps more than one. A few of the council members seemed very opposed.

“Well, I suppose I will see you tomorrow then,” Shanlee said as she wrote his name on the parchment. “Sorry you weren’t admitted.”

“Thank you.” And he meant it. It felt good to hear that she thought he should have been. “I will see you tomorrow.” He turned away.

“Wait!” Shanlee’s tone called his focus back. There was a look on her face he recognized. Curiosity. With a bit of wonder. “That spell you performed. To get into the room. What was that?”

“A spatial distortion. A shift in the dimensions of the world so that it believes I am smaller.”

“But you actually aren’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“From Uxul Azul. Or rather, I figured it out under his tutelage, while studying different branches of magic and how they could be combined.”

“You figured it out yourself?” Shanlee’s stunned expression said volumes. “That’s amazing.”

“Well, thank you,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Have you ever—?”

“No,” she said quickly. “But … Maybe I should.”

“Well, I wish you luck and care at it,” he said. “For now, I need to rest. The trial took much out of me. And I need to prepare for tomorrow. Farewell, Ms. Oau.”

He left the council chambers behind him, waiting until he was out of sight to let his fatigue show.

*             *             *

The next afternoon the council chambers were much the same, each councilmember waiting behind the dais and greeting him with mostly unreadable expressions. “So Ryax,” one of them said as he walked in. “You have returned.”

“I have,” he said, dispelling once more the spatial distortion as he moved to the center of the room. “I arrive to hear your decision.”

“We have not come to one.” The response came from the wizard who had been so outspoken against him the day before. Pinel, by his plaque. “We have, however, decided to test you further. To see the full depth and breadth of your supposed skill, and see if you’re truly worthy to bear the title of ‘wizard’ as a member of the Rietillian Council of Wizards.”

“I understand,” Ryax replied, holding his form very still and not raking his claws across the stone floor. It was within the power of the council to test him as they saw fit during the trial, but … I suspect this has little to do with my skill.

But until they reject me … Besides, a show of competency may sway some of those who were less than supportive yesterday.

One of the wizards leaned forward, asking a question about spell modification, and he let his focus slip to the task at claw. The rhythm established by the prior day’s trial, with council members questioning on theory, practice, or even demonstrations, came back easily. Unlike the day before, however, their questions were even more difficult, often theoretical, probing after nebulous or unknown concepts. Several times he was forced to shake his head and offer only an admission that he didn’t know, or that it was an area he had yet to study. The latter, he noted, seemed to be met with a scoff from Pinel, though after the third such occurrence another wizard asked him what he would say, only for Pinel to dodge the question by replying that he wasn’t the one on trial.

“Enough,” one wizard—the one with the long beard that wasn’t Jacopo—said after an hour or more had passed, interrupting councilmember Hogath partway through a request. “We’ve asked that before, only uttered differently. We’re circling, council. As well as, I may add, asking questions I suspect some of our own don’t even know the answers to. The apprentice’s knowledge is sound.”

“I disagree completely.” The voice belonged to Wizard Chobran, who stood as she spoke, waving one hand. “His knowledge would be sound if he adhered to it. Instead he offers wild theories, ones that call into question some of the very basic tenants we’ve held for generations—”

“You’re only saying that because you hold Adricarle in such high regard that you ignore more adept solutions, even when they’re placed right in front of you,” Sanyu shot back, cutting her off. “While I find apprentice Ryax’s methods unorthodox, I believe that the theory behind his approaches—”

“We don’t let apprentices become wizards for theory, Sanyu!” Jacopo said, his voice raised.

“Don’t misplace my words, Jacopo,” Sanyu shot back. “You know very well what—”

“Again we reach an impasse.” Soban rose, eyes cycling through the rest of the council. “As spokesman, I must confess I’ve rarely seen a harsher deliberation from the lot of you. I move then for recess and deliberation.”

 “We will still set aside time for your case,” Soban continued, his gaze moving to Ryax. “But rather than continuing to test you, all present will be encouraged to meet and speak among themselves. With luck—” He shot a pointed glare at Jacopo. “Some of us will be able to reason without resorting to shouting to make our opinions heard. A reminder that we are wizards, councilmembers, of the Rietillian Council of such. We should act according to our station.”

“We will use that time tomorrow and the day after to debate as reasoned wizards. We will then meet on the fifth and final day of the trials once more, with Apprentice Ryax present, and reach a decision as a council. May we all agree?” There was a chorus of muttered nods and agreements, and Ryax found himself dismissed.

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I hope you enjoyed Parts One and Two of A Trial For a Dragon! If this is the first you’ve been exposed to the world of Axtara, then be sure to check out the best-selling Axtara – Banking and Finance! She’s available at your local bookseller, online, or perhaps even at your local library! It’ll get you ready for Axtara’s newest adventure when it launches this spring!