Chương 63: Chapter 58: Trouble multiplied again

Fabrisse rubbed his eyes, still not entirely sure he hadn't inhaled too much smoke during his fire training earlier.

"W–why are you back?" he asked.

"Aren't you supposed to be off… I don't know, fighting off goblins in the Redscape or something?" Two years older and coming from the same commune of Itakonra as Fabrisse, Tommaso had trained his entire life to become a combat mage. The pay was tremendous, at least before the border skirmishes with the goblins ended, and he'd always felt an urge to 'smash those evil goblins' heads in' (his exact words).

The green creatures had always been a nuisance near the frontier as they had no concept of borders and demarcated lands. Tommaso laughed.

"Goblins? That was last month. I'm on vacation now." He pointed both fingers at Fabrisse.

"Officially, I'm an 'adjunct fire resonance observer' until the Synod decides what to do with me. Which means I get paid to sit around here, eat for free, and occasionally observe some fire. Oh, and I think I still owe you a concussion from the breadstick duel of '22." Fabrisse gaped.

"You are a what?"

"Anyway, wanna see my newest trick?" Before Fabrisse could answer, Tommaso rolled both wrists and sent a curl of flame between his hands. He pulled them apart, and the orange-gold flame came with them, taking the rough shape of a bird. Very rough. One of its wings was larger than the other, and the head seemed to have been added as an afterthought. It flapped as it pecked at the air, then made a noise no bird had any business making. Mint sparks circled its body, much brighter than Miro's had been.

Fabrisse stared at it. It was a chicken. Tommaso beamed.

"Can't do a phoenix yet. But we're getting there." The fire-chicken flapped toward a nearby tree and nearly scorched a branch before Tommaso snapped his fingers. It disappeared with a pop. Tommaso would probably have been the best graduate in their class if he hadn't spent so much time inventing spells nobody had asked for. Fabrisse still remembered the lecture lanterns dancing to tavern songs during Symposium Week. The worst part was that Tommaso was good enough to get away with most of it.

Considering everything that had happened with Fabrisse, his success was probably the only reason Lorvan had kept his job. Fabrisse couldn't stop himself.

"You're still ridiculous." Tommaso grinned wider.

"Ridiculously talented, maybe. You're welcome, by the way. This chicken saved a caravan last month. Goblins don't like poultry or fire. Oh, also, I want you to meet somebody."

"There's more?" Fabrisse asked.

"There's more?" Lorvan asked. Tommaso jabbed his thumb behind him.

"You see the snowman over there?" Fabrisse turned.

"What snowm—?" He promptly stopped. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. There was, in fact, an actual physical snowman standing about twenty paces from the training ring. It had a pine cone stuck into its face and even had twigs for arms. The frost was spreading through the grass beneath it.

"Since when has it been there?" Tommaso shrugged.

"Since love entered my life."

"What?" Behind him came the cracking sound of crystal. [PRAXIS-NODE Auto-Defense Activated] [Proximity Alert: Pranking Pattern Detected] Fabrisse whirled around. Too late.

"BOO!" He yelped. A woman stood inches from his face. She had silver-blonde hair braided over one shoulder, pale blue eyes, and the sort of winter complexion that made Fabrisse immediately think of the far northern kingdom of Veznograd. Even her clothes looked northern: a white velvet coat over heavy gray robes, despite the perfectly pleasant weather. The only indication that she found his yelp amusing was the slight curve of her mouth.

"Sacred socks and dragon scales!" Fabrisse gasped. He forced his face back to neutral, unsure whether screaming counted as a breach of etiquette in front of snow royalty.

"You nearly gave me an aneurysm." Lorvan must have seen her. He hadn't even warned him. Tommaso wandered over, chuckling.

"Fabrisse Kestovar, meet Yelena Morozova, snowmancer and spirit channeler. Also? Acceptable kisser." Yelena held out her hand with surprising formality.

"Hello."

"Ah. Hi." The moment he took it, frost crept over his sleeve. Fabrisse jerked his hand back. Yelena turned to Tommaso.

"You were right. You actually can prank him twice in a row." Her smile hadn't so much as changed, but her eyes had done the accentuation for her. Great. Trouble multiplied, Fabrisse thought, red-faced. Tommaso grinned like a fox.

"She's great, isn't she?" Fabrisse brushed the ice from his sleeve.

"I thought you were going to hex me."

"I considered it," Yelena said.

"But this yields more drastic results." Before Fabrisse could answer, a shadow crossed the training ring. A raven dropped onto Yelena's shoulder. Its body was gray, with a black hood running over its head and down across the wings. It clicked its beak, peering at him It's a familiar. If I bond with that clucklebeak, it might follow me around too.

"Oh. Here comes your little spy," Tommaso said.

"Informant," Yelena corrected.

"He brings news." The raven winked at Fabrisse. Great. Trouble multiplied again. The Eidralith chose this moment to show him helpful messages. [FAMILIAR DETECTED: Aetherically-Imprinted Common Raven] [Emotional Imprint: Calm] [Perfect Resonance Established—Yelena Morozova] [ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: Knows how to wink.] If it's aetherically-imprinted, is it really common anymore? Fabrisse mused before finally deciding that was possibly not important in the grand scheme of things.