The Dawn Patrol


Vicorin growled as he attempted to make matter appear from nowhere. If it wasn’t for the hellfire outside and the small stone of creation in his pocket, even Dumbir would’ve been hard pressed to consider learning magic. Let alone creation magic.

“Alright, this isn’t working as planned,” Dumbir sighed, “give me your shield.”

Vicorin reluctantly crossed the room to retrieve his shield. After handing to the massive iron construct, Dumbir examined it thoroughly. One he seemed satisfied with his examination, he let the shield fall into the palm of his hand.

“Very well made piece of equipment, make it yourself?” Dumbir asked, looking down at Vicorin. Not a second after nodding in response, the Iron Lord clenched his hand and let the twisted metal fall to the table.

“Fix it.”

Vicorin glared up at Dumbir. If you weren’t made completely of Iron, I would deconstruct you, Vicorin thought as he prepared himself. Vicorin summoned the creation stone and let it fall gently into his hand. Vicorin stated at the crumpled metal of his closest companion as he took a deep breath in.

“Renovo,” Vicorin said, prompted by the stone. Instantly the shield started to reshape itself back into the study shield Vicorin had crafted. Vicorin felt the magic tear at his being, such a simple magical task wasn’t for the mortal of Vulcanica. While no skin or bones had been broken, Vicorin felted drained, mentally and physically.

“Very good,” the Iron Lord remarked, “now you know how the magic drains the user.”

Dumbir grabbed an empty glass from a nearby table and placed in front of Vicorin.

“You look parched, fill it up”

Vicorin glared at Dumbir as he turned to the transparent glass on the table and started to concentrate on filling it.

“Trinkan,” Vicorin mumbled. Once again, at his word, the magic manifested. A dark liquid filled the glass. Vicorin picked the glass up.

Confused, Dumbir stated, “Very good, but I was expecting you to fill it with water."

“Nostrovia,”* Vicorin replied as he took a drink of the ale he had summoned.

(*Nostrovia is a bastardization of the russian word for cheers)


Arikiba Smiggetti

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