Hello there! As a continuation of the last two weeks, things are going to be a little bit different today. With Axtara 2 drawing ever closer to flying free into the world, we’re continuing to give Axtara fans a little bonus to tide you over until her newest adventure is in your claws.

No, it’s not a preview of Axtara 2 (that’s a different post), but it is 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 … we’re finding out! 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 three of A Trial For a Dragon. A story in four parts, one part each week. This bit is part three, so if you missed part one or two, you might want to check those out here and here. As always, enjoy.

---

A Trial For a Dragon – Part Three

Part of him wanted to go flying. Badly. There was something about being high in the sky, above the world with nothing but air and cloud around him … Perhaps it was part of being a dragon. The urge to stretch his wings, to simply glide on a thermal for miles and let his mind wander.

He’d almost done it. Walking out of the council chambers he’d felt the desire to take off right there from the front steps, to arc into the sky and climb until the words etched above the front door were nothing more than smudges on stone.

But … he’d been hungry. And he’d needed to give Shanlee the news that his trial would now be taking three other slots, right through the final day. So he’d done that instead, watching as she’d rearranged the schedule once more and prepared missives to dispatch to the affected apprentices, alerting them to the changes.

Then he’d gone and gotten lunch. Whether it was nervousness or the large amount of magic he’d been forced to cast over the last few days he’d built up a large appetite, one that hadn’t been sated until he’d consumed a fairly titanic pot of soup from a restaurant several hills west of the council chambers.

Now he was lying atop a white stone bench on one of the terraces near the river, idly watching as boats small and large made their way up and down its visible length. Most were laden with cargo, but here and there were a few carrying passengers, probably from much further away than another district of the city.

Most of them at least know where they’re going. He let out a sigh, dropping his head to his forepaws. I feel like I don’t know up from down and it doesn’t matter until the storm’s done with me anyway.

Some of the council had issues with him because of his species; that much was clear. More still clearly took issue with some of the answers he’d given in response to their intense questioning, though whether or not that was tied to his species he wasn’t certain.

Sel did warn me that sometimes a simpler demonstration of knowledge and capability is better, and that some of the council wizards could be quite stuck in tradition, he thought. Maybe that was my mistake.

But then how do I go about fixing this? He let out another huff of breath, a faint wisp of flame licking over the top of his paws as he did so. Down below one of the barges pulled over to a stone dock, crew shouting at the dockworkers as they threw lines and made ready to unload some of their cargo. I’ve already demonstrated everything I’m capable of, but that’s only won over how many members of the council?

He reviewed his memories, sifting through them and counting the various expressions he could remember. Four came to mind that were openly in his favor. And at least another three that seemed impressed enough by his magic that he felt they would be for his appointment. So seven that approve. Out of fifteen.

Soban he wasn’t certain about. The wizard hadn’t been antagonistic, but hadn’t been in his favor either, staying quite neutral. Though he had asked softer questions than some of his fellows.

That left seven other members, two of which he could recall taking issue with his approaches to magic, and five in addition that seemed overly antagonistic, like Pinel. Though it wouldn’t be fair to say that all of them are judging solely on my species. Only Pinel and one other wizard had been openly dismissive in that regard.

Ugh. He drew his claws back over the stone—not hard enough to leave scratches, but enough to make a faint rasp. And now they’re going to debate it on their own. If I could just talk to some of—

He paused. Well … I could, couldn’t I? Soban’s exact words hadn’t been that members of the council would meet, but—

“All present.” And I was present! So therefore, wouldn’t I count? His tail snapped back and forth as he thought back. It was very particular wording. And about explaining what the recess would consist of. Was that for my benefit?

He rose, pushing himself up on all fours atop the bench. Even if it wasn’t, it’s enough of a loophole that I could try, rather than sitting around waiting for them to pass me their answer.

Frederico’s voice echoed through his mind. “By our very nature and calling, a wizard is an active force in the world, not reactive.” He could recall the lesson well, and the saying had been one of the man’s favorites. “We are engineers, architects.”

He flapped his wings slightly, stretching them. Below him the barge had finished unloading its cargo and was busily casting off, crew poling it away from the dock and out toward the center of the river.

I need a plan, he thought. A process. He couldn’t simply go charging back to the council chambers and attempt to strike up a conversation with each in turn. I need the times set aside for each of those deliberations—He could remember one of them, thanks to Shanlee’s frustrated change of the schedule—and knowledge of where each of the members may be.

But … I should speak with Soban first. Both to make certain that he wasn’t overshooting his mark by getting involved … And to thank him for being a voice of reason, he thought. Besides, he might know something.

It was almost early evening now. The last trial was an hour before fifth bell. And after that, the council retires to their chambers or their homes. There must be a list at the council building of where each resides so that they can be contacted.

He shook his head. And that means I can find and speak with each of them. Or at the very least, a few of my most ardent detractors. But first, Soban.

*             *             *

As it turned out, Soban was the Rietillian Royal Family’s dedicated wizard, his home nestled near the royal hill and far enough from the council chambers that by the time Ryax had walked there he regretted not having flown, or at the very least hiring one of the small canal boats citizens could use to get through the city. The stone streets were definitely striking and surprisingly clean, but they were a bit tough on the paws after a few miles.

Soban’s home was small when compared to the edifices around it, consisting of what looked to be only a few rooms and a rooftop balcony, all tucked right up against the northern side of the palace walls. A plain stone path meandered through a well-trimmed garden to the front door, and Ryax could feel magic itch at his scales as he followed it.

Something … dangerous? He slowed for a moment, reaching out to very faintly feel at the spells. Stunning magic. And warning alerts. Nothing lethal, but worth knowing about. He probed a little further, looking for the locus the spells were attached to.

Oh, of course. The magic had been anchored to the very stones that made up the path under his paws. Clever.

There was a bell cord by the front door, and he pulled it. From somewhere within, a vocal chorus sounded in harmony. Very clever. The spellwork on that alone must have been—

The front door opened, both without warning and entirely on its own. Well, he thought as he identified the spell that had opened it. Not entirely the latter.

“Ryax.” Soban’s voice echoed from somewhere inside. “I’ve been expecting you.”

A faint fire of satisfaction bloomed in Ryax’s chest. I must have guessed right! he thought. If he was expecting me, he must have phrased the explanation for my benefit.

“Please, come in,” Soban instructed. Ryax complied, taking care to apply another spatial distortion as he did so, and heard a faint chuckle.

“That’s a very clever spell, you know. Very clever indeed.” Soban was sitting at a dinner table just to the right of the entryway, still clad in the colorful blue and golden robes he’d been wearing behind the dais, a half-eaten chicken in front of him. Ryax bowed his head slightly, taking care to keep his wings and tail close and away from the silk tapestries and paintings festooning the walls.

“Please accept my apologies, Ryax, for having dinner while we speak,” Soban continued, spearing a piece of chicken on a fork. “But I’ve barely had time to eat today. Please, sit.”

I was definitely expected. Ryax shook his head, settling on his haunches across the table from the wizard. “I’m intruding on your evening, sir. It would be presumptuous of me to expect you to cease.”

Soban nodded but smiled, the warmest expression Ryax could recall seeing on the man. Then it was gone, his tone all business once more. “So,” he said, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth and swallowing. “You obviously picked up on the little opening I left you this afternoon. And now you’ve come to speak with me first.” He paused, spearing another bit of his dinner. “Why me? Why not Pinel?”

Ryax thought for a moment before answering. “Because I wanted to be certain that I’d interpreted your wording properly. If I had, and I wanted to see what your thoughts were on my efforts thus far.”

“Hmm. I see.” The wizard took another bite, carefully wiping at his cheeks with a napkin. “And if I say that your efforts are futile?”

“I …” It’s a test! “I’ve come this far, sir. I have little to lose by putting forth the effort.”

Soban nodded, the motion slow and thoughtful rather than quick. “Good. Would to the Grand Creator that half the apprentices who came in for their trials were as dedicated as you. Now,” he said, leaning forward and intertwining his fingers atop the table. “As the official spokesman of the Rietillian Council of Wizards, I cannot speak for or against the success of your trial, as that would be overstepping my bounds. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Ryax smiled. “Yes. You cannot say whether or not there’s a consensus, but you can speak of the council members.”

“That’s Uxul Azul’s training at work,” Soban said, leaning back. “Very well then, Ryax. What would you like to know? Take a moment to consider if you need it.”

It was an opening. He’s testing me, even now. There’s more to this. Another angle. Referencing Uxul had been a clue. Looking at things differently … Like his words, or …

He had it. “It seems as though some members of the council take issue with my species,” he said, carefully watching Soban’s expression, but it was set in stone. “But there’s more going on than that, isn’t there?”

Soban nodded slowly. “There is. You’re not wrong that a few members of the council find the idea of a non-human wizard … troubling, but for most it’s only a catalyst for other issues within our order.”

“Spell theory.”

Soban nodded. “Right again. Not only are you a non-human and a dragon which, though the old days are behind us, still lingers in memory, you also speak against tradition.”

“Thus turning those members of the council against me.”

Again Soban nodded. “You have to understand, Ryax. The world is changing rapidly, and some have issues with that. Wizards no more or no less than others. There are debates among the council almost constantly on which ‘order’ of spellwork to follow, of which approach is the proper one to teach or to learn. Some are deeply divided over it. Wizards have even turned down offers to sit on the council over rivalries formed discussing the topic. And then you arrive with a training that’s far exceeded other apprentices, not just having been taught those differing methods but melding them, showing that they’re all valid …” He shrugged as his voice trailed off.

“My species made for a convenient reason to rally behind one cause or another turning half the council against me.”

“Not against you, per se,” Soban said quickly.

“But the ideas I represent,” Ryax finished. “They see it as a threat to their traditions and the knowledge they’ve spent a lifetime accumulating.”

“Knowledge and influence,” Soban added, leaning forward once more. “Don’t forget, most wizards became wizards to receive that same recognition and title you yourself stated you desired, though perhaps for different reasons.”

“So if they officially support someone who as they see it undermines their own capabilities, then they fear damaging their own status as a wizard.”

“Or the organization’s as a whole,” Soban said with another one of his sideways nods. A cultural tic, Ryax recalled, native to some Sicarians. “And with that, I suspect I’ve pushed the limits of my position far enough.”

But … “One last question, if I may, Wizard Soban.”

Soban smiled again, the expression gone an instant later. “You may.”

“Has the council ever turned away others for upsetting established tradition before? Is there precedent?”

Soban was still for a moment. “They have,” he said with a sigh. “And there is. More than twenty years ago now, before I was the spokesman. A delegation of magic users from across the Scented Ocean came to be recognized among the kingdoms as wizards, though they call themselves by a different title in the south. They were turned away, as their methods and practices were seen as far too different from the established standards of the Rietillian Council.”

A sinking feeling moved across Ryax’s body, like he’d just accidentally flown free of a thermal and was dropping toward the earth. Not free-fall, but … “So there is precedent?”

“There is. Tradition is a powerful thing.”

“Well, so is being so committed to one’s flight that one flies into a storm.” His eyes widened as he remembered who he was speaking to. “That is—I—”

Soban let out a chuckle and shook his head. “No, Ryax, it’s fair. Tradition, or pride in it, can blind even wizards. Perhaps if when our council was founded all those years ago there had been more forethought toward the future, rather than the now, but …” He shrugged, spreading open palms. “As they say, you can see the pitfall easily after you’ve already fallen in. Assuming one even wants to climb out.”

“Personally, I think I would have the advantage there, sir.”

Soban let out another chuckle. “You seem to have been gifted with the ability to look at things from another angle, but I’d say that’s a product of your mind and your teaching, rather than your species. Sadly Ryax, I’m afraid there’s not much else I can say, and I have other duties I must attend to once my dinner is complete. I hope you can make the most of my advice.”

The dismissal was polite, but still clearly a dismissal. “Thank you, sir, for your time.”

“You’re welcome,” Soban said, waving a hand. “I wish you luck, though before you go …” There was a hungry gleam in his eye. “Could I perhaps see that spatial distortion spell of yours one more time?”

*             *             *

The next morning Ryax awoke to the slight pattering of rain hitting the balcony outside his room. The blue skies of the days prior had been replaced by cool grey, fat, thick drops of rain adding a wet sheen to the white stone of the city.

Day three. Only today and tomorrow to convince the council that—

That I’m what? he thought as he looked out across the damp city. Not a threat to their traditions and approaches? I can’t rightfully say that. I probably am, dragon or not.

He made his way out onto the balcony, spreading his wings and letting the infrequent drops splatter against them. A quick downward thrust with a hop and he was airborne, climbing into the grey sky. Even if he had to circle for a while to find a place to land, the flight would feel good, and maybe even help clear his head.

Who do I start with? Those who partially support me, but are against my approaches? Or someone like Pinel?

Straight to the source. That would certainly be one way to approach it. Pinel’s objection seemed to have been more to do with his species, but … Like Soban said, that’s a catalyst for all the other issues. If Pinel were to retract his objections …

Below him the city was still active despite the rain, though many of the streets looked slightly less crowded than they had before. He flew over the river, eyeing one of the large stone bridges that crossed it and noting the detail that had gone into its masonry. Small channels had been cut into the sides of the bridge to let rainwater escape, trickles of water falling to the river below. Under the right conditions, it would likely look a bit like a waterfall … and probably soak any boat that passed beneath it.

But such is the price of art, Ryax thought as he flew onward, climbing so that he wouldn’t come too near to the tops of the next buildings. Looking close he could see more of the small channels cut across each building, guiding the rainfall down to the canals. Or, from the look of more than a few channels, into cisterns.

He changed directions, turning back toward the river and letting the city pass by beneath him. There wasn’t any real plan to his flight, other than to stretch his wings. And perhaps determine how to best spend his time until he could speak with … Well, whoever I speak with.

I wonder if Axtara had this much trouble starting her bank? Knowing who to talk to, and what to say … I study magic, not social circles.

Still, I can think of it a bit like magic, right? And in magic, if a spell approach didn’t work, the best solution wasn’t to power through it, but to try another angle.

Maybe I don’t want to speak with Pinel, but one of the others against me. That would be coming at it from a different angle. And if I can convince one of them, maybe that will be enough to bring others closer to my support, one by one.

So then … who to talk with? They still must have the social clout to convince others. He ran through his memories of the prior afternoon. Jacopo? No, Chobran! The wizard who spoke against my theories! I should speak with her. Try to ease her fears, or perhaps find common ground.

And if she proves unreceptive, then I suppose I could try Pinel. If he’ll speak with me. He turned toward the council chambers at last, raindrops splattering against his wings. Shanlee will know where Chobran can be found. From there, I hope I can convince her to see reason.

*             *             *

Chobran, it turned out, was quartered on the council grounds itself, behind the main building and with her own entrance. Temporary quartering only, Shanlee had noted. Normally the wizard lived closer to the center of the empires. She only came to the council when called.

She also was an ardent traditionalist. Chobran had submitted a new apprentice of her own without fail for almost every one of the dozen years she’d served on the council, most of whom had passed. The ones that hadn’t had been immediately dismissed. The warning had left him with a bit of a pit in his gut. If she dismisses her own apprentices for failing to pass the trials even once, where might that leave me?

Flying the only path left to me? It wasn’t a comforting thought. Before it could linger in his head, he brought his claws down, knocking on Chobran’s door.

For a moment there was nothing but the faint sound of raindrops striking the stone around him, and he shifted his wings slightly, trying to keep his body still. Be calm. Be pleasant. Be congenial. A friendly wizard is much more welcome to people than an unhappy one. Elvoto had drummed a number of lessons into his head that had held little to do with magic, but with appearances. Hold yourself with poise.

He was about to knock again, the pit in his stomach swelling, when a voice from inside called out “I’m coming, I’m coming.” He barely had time to place his lifted claws back on the wet stone step before the door shot open, Chobran’s stern expression catching his own.

“What—?” She paused, her expression unreadable. “Oh. It’s you. What do you want?”

Gone, he noticed, were the robes she’d worn behind her dais on the council. Instead she wore a dress that vaguely reminded him of Sicarian fashion, with a high neck and a window that left part of her breastbone exposed. It was a dark color, threaded with faint lines of silver. Had he not known who she was, he would have thought he’d intruded on the afternoon of a noblewoman.

And she was still waiting for him to answer her question. He disguised the pause with a quick bow. “Councilwoman.”

“Apprentice.” There was no mistaking the tone. She didn’t think much of the word. Or him. “As I said, what do you want?”

To the point, then. “I’ve come to speak with you regarding my trial, as part of the recess.”

Chobran’s eyes narrowed. “You’re an apprentice.” Again there was a tone to the way she said it. “Not a wizard. The recess is for council members to discuss your trial. Not apprentices.”

“Your pardon, ma’am,” he said quickly. “But Wizard Soban’s words were that ‘all present’ were to discuss it. Not just the councilmembers.”

Chobran’s expression twitched ever so slightly, eyes narrowing. “Very well,” she said after a moment. “Say your piece, and then I’ll say mine.”

Not even going to invite me in. The pit in his belly was a yawning abyss now. And from her statement, she doesn’t expect this to be much of a discussion.

“Councilwoman Chobran,” he said, his mind racing to plan ahead as he spoke. “I’m under the impression that you’re opposed to my passing the trial because of my varied approaches to magic. I was hoping I could perhaps ease your mind concerning my suitability. There are varied approaches to magic—”

“That’s Sel Utari talking,” Chobran said, speaking over him with no hesitation that he could see. “She never should have been given the title of ‘wizard’ peddling that nonsense from hedge-magicians. Wizardry isn’t flagrantly throwing magic around like seed and seeing what grows. It’s cultivated, carefully designed application of skill and talent, built on the precise study of generations of respected authority that has come before. That is magic, apprentice. Precision. Care. Following the carefully chosen steps of those before us. Not flagrantly disregarding their wisdom and learning to try and put ourselves on their own pedestals.”

“I’m not—” he began, but then a spell swept over him, silencing his words.

“I wasn’t through, apprentice.” She frowned at him. “Another reason I will not support your trial. You don’t respect your peers. You think to challenge them, to contest. Generations of wizards have dedicated their lives to the study of magic, and then apprentices like yourself think you can simply disregard a lifetime of learning.”

“Furthermore,” she continued. “That shows a temperament entirely unsuited for any who would bear the title of ‘wizard.’ It’s the realm of hedge-magicians and backwater rubes, not serious practitioners of magic. Whether it’s attempting to ‘reinvent’ something that’s already been done to inflate your own ego, or ascribing ‘rules’ where there are none, I find both utterly unsuitable for any who would be a member of our order. Granting you the title of ‘wizard’ would be an insult diminishing the standing of each and every one of us.”

“So no, apprentice.” Again the emphasis. “You will never be a wizard, even if you were to come back at a future trial and deliver to us exactly what you should have shown had you been trained properly. You’ve already proven that you’re unsuited for it, too quick to dismiss what you should have never questioned. You will always be a hedge-magician at best.” She paused, her eyes looking him up and down. “Not to mention you’re a dragon, and the social and political connotations of admitting a dragon to the order would be devastating to the rest of us. I’m almost tempted to motion that Sel and the rest of your teachers be stripped of their titles simply for the damage their behavior could extend to the order.”

“So again, no,” Chobran said, folding her arms and glaring at him. “Good day.” The door slammed shut, almost striking him in the muzzle.

Well …The pit in his belly was gone, at least, though the yawning abyss that had swallowed it wasn’t really any better. That could have gone—

He shook his head and stepped back. No, it could not have gone better. The only way for it to have gone worse would have been for her to cast a spell on you. Oh, but she did.

He lashed out with a quick burst of his own magic, striking the spell’s weak point and ripping it apart. The magic unraveled with a faint pop alongside a garbled mixture of the few words he’d said before he’d felt the spell’s full effect.

Part of him wanted to be angry. To lash out with wing and claw, maybe flame. But he couldn’t. Not without proving some of the very concerns Chobran had hinted at. There was definitely an ember of anger floating somewhere in the abyss, but … Calm.

Chobran was out, clearly. Which left … Pinel? There might be a chance. What was it Soban had said? That I’m gifted with the ability to see things from another angle? I couldn’t convince Chobran of that, but if I could convince Pinel, then maybe …

He turned away from the wizard’s door, moving with purpose toward the front of the council grounds. If I can track down Pinel before this recess is over, and convince him … It wasn’t ideal. But it was the only obvious course left. I have to try.

Maybe, just maybe, I can make this work.

---

Well, things aren’t going well for Ryax, are they? I hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far, and don’t forget to come back next Friday for the finale! If this marks your first exposure 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! And be ready for Axtara’s newest adventure when it launches this spring!