Avalon Academy
Chapter One
© Nattie Jones and ABCD Webmasters, 2005
Whizzing over the dragon’s head on her broomstick, Karia dodged the stream of fire heading towards her raven-black hair. Pointing her broomstick determinedly towards the entrance of a cave at the foot of a mountain, Karia spun into a nose dive, hoping that the cave would lead to an exit on the other side.
"Faster, Karia!" Her father’s yell seemed almost quiet, poking through the indignant roar of the shiny red dragon, who was furious for missing his target.
Barely able to see through the tears that the heat of the dragon’s fire had burned in her luminous green eyes, Karia desperately pulled her broomstick up, flying directly into the mouth of the cave. Narrowly missing the rocky ground, Karia looked up, only to see that she would be crashing into a solid cave wall within seconds.
"Mountain cave,
let there be,
an exit pathway
just for me."
Closing her eyes, Karia flew straight towards the wall, trusting the power of her magic to deliver her safely out the other side of the mountain. Feeling a blaze of dragon’s breath behind her, Karia held her breath anxiously, and suddenly felt a cool breeze across her face as dragon’s roar faded into the sound of sweetly singing birds.
Opening her eyes in relief, Karia gasped at the view, "The Lake of Diana!"
A splendid, sparkling blue lake lay before her, with mists of green rising to the bright sunlit sky. Sending up a quick prayer of thanks to the goddess, Karia steered her broomstick straight towards the cool water. Holding her breath, she hoped Viviane, Lady of the Lake, would grant her entrance to Avalon.
She entered the water a bit too fast, almost losing her grip when the force of water met with her speed. Karia steadfastly held on, and with eyes shut from the rush of water, blindly steered down to the bottom of the lake. As the water seemed to go on forever, her lungs began to ache with desperate need for air.
Never doubting her final success, Karia stayed her course. She had, after all, been the most talented young sorceress throughout the British Isles in her younger years, winning every magical tournament she ever entered. Her place in the Academy had been guaranteed by winning one of the many tournaments she had entered, but that was ten years ago. A lot had happened since her eighteenth birthday.
The growing pressure in her lungs pushed such thoughts out of her mind. Within seconds of suffocation, Karia emerged from the water gasping, but miraculously dry, into the Other World of Avalon.
Looking up, she expected to see the bottom of the lake, but was instead greeted with the sight of a clear blue sky. Looking down, a great green forest spread out before her. Pointing her broomstick north, Karia raced towards a lake in the distance, which remarkably resembled the Lake of Diana, from which she had just emerged.
With heart pounding, she flew on towards the lake. Doubts were soon clouding her thoughts. What if they don’t accept me? What if they laugh at me and turn me from the gates? What if they say I’m too old? Most entrants to the academy were between the ages of fifteen and twenty. And what if they know what I did ten years ago?
Resolutely stifling her doubts, Karia flew towards the center of the lake, leaving the forest behind. A vast island rose from the water, with a great mountain at the northern edge. At the base of the mountain stood an impressive gray castle, with hundreds of towers and a murky moat, which separated the castle from the small town around it.
Proudly raising her chin, Karia landed at the gates of the castle, which read, "Avalon Academy of Ancient Arts." After parking her broom, she strode forward confidently to the gatekeeper’s door and knocked firmly.
Sounds of a glass breaking and something crashing to the floor emerged before a gruffly-haired head poked out of the door.
"Who knocks there?" His low voice boomed out, and his black beady eyes caught sight of Karia. "Hmmm, never seen you before. Must be an initiate."
"Yes," Karia spoke self-assuredly, "I am . . ."
"Make your way across the bridge then." Quickly sizing Karia up and down, the gatekeeper spoke again before Karia could finish introducing herself. "Priestess Evelyn will be waiting for you."
He slammed the door shut before Karia could thank him, and the gates opened before her. Her tenuous confidence wavering a bit at such treatment, she tread nervously across the swaying bridge. She couldn’t help but stare in wonder at the lady waiting by the entrance. Sweeping, golden hair framed the Priestess’s bright blue eyes, and a purple cloak of velvet draped over her down to the ground. Her eyes were kind, with the honored wrinkles of great wisdom, and her aged beauty still breathtaking. An aura of incredible, but calm power emanated from her.
"Welcome, my daughter." The Priestess’s voice seemed to sing rather than speak as she held her hand out towards Karia.
"Thank you Priestess." As she had been taught, Karia went down on one knee and kissed the Priestess’s ring.
"Stand up, Karia." Priestess Evelyn smiled at her warmly. The smile then faded into stern disapproval, and a note of censure crept into her voice. "You were expected ten years ago."
Karia had to bite back a defensive retort which wanted to spring from her lips, but she replied instead, "I am truly sorry. I had to . . . I was . . ." She searched desperately for some quick reply, but none came to her mind.
Priestess Evelyn interrupted, "I know; I have seen. You have much you need to answer for, but the time for that will come later. Follow me."
Leaving Karia sputtering in surprise, the Priestess turned on her heels and led the way into the castle. Green eyes flashing indignantly, Karia smothered her pride and followed Priestess Evelyn into a great foyer. How could the Priestess know of all that had transpired ten years ago? Of course, Karia quickly realized, she must be a very powerful Seer.
"You first have an interview with Headmaster Arthur Knightson, then, if you are accepted into the Academy, you will see the Dean of Discipline, Master Lance Firmstrong, to set up your class schedule and acquaint you with our rules here."
Karia worriedly responded, "I thought getting by the dragon and passing through the lake were all I needed to accomplish to gain entrance into the Academy. I had a guaranteed spot ten . . ."
"Exactly," the Priestess interrupted. "That was ten years ago. The dragon and the lake were merely tests of your courage and determination. Almost all with those traits may attend the Academy." The Priestess’s censuring look returned, as she glanced back at Karia. "You are, however, ten years late, and there is the matter of your fall from grace."
"But I’ve already been punished for that!" The townspeople had nearly stoned her to death - only her father’s magic had kept her alive, and had even protected her from the pain. After she had healed, she had run away before her father could deliver the punishment he himself had promised. Nine years wiser, Karia had returned to her father, underwent nine times the originally promised punishment, and began, under his patient and caring tutelage, training and studying for entrance into the academy.
"We shall see. If you have truly reached an understanding of the severity and great consequences of your action, then your punishment will soon be over. If not, . . ." The Priestess turned, and gestured to a golden archway on her right. "Follow this hallway to Headmaster Knightson’s office. You will see a waiting area - here you may wait for him to see you."
Karia bowed her head appropriately. "Thank you, Priestess."
Feeling a gentle hand pulling her chin up, Karia gazed into the Priestess’s strong blue eyes. "My daughter, you were meant for great things before your fall. The repercussions of your actions ten years ago echo across eternity. You will either die in shame, burdened by guilt, or you will move on to the greatness you were meant for. Choose your path wisely."
After blessing her, the Priestess turned, leaving Karia standing speechless and pondering the gravity of the Priestess’s prophecy. Beginning at age three, when she first had shown promise of great magical power, her father had constantly drilled into her the necessity of weighing the consequences of every action, and the great responsibility that came with great power.
Closing her eyes, Karia could almost hear her father’s low, smooth-sounding voice. "No action or inaction is ever inconsequential. A simple smile at a stranger can be so powerful, that the course of the future is drastically altered. A small smile today may prevent a great war in a thousand years’ time."
Opening her eyes to blink back the tears threatening to spill over, Karia remembered his great disappointment ten years ago, and his harsh punishment when she had returned a year ago. It’s true, she thought sourly, her fleeting fit of temper had had a dramatic effect on her village, and her life. But when will I stop paying for that one temper tantrum?
Her father’s punishment had far outweighed the severity of the stoning. For the stoning, her father had placed a spell of protection around her to spare her life and heal her injuries, almost painlessly. Karia had not run away for nine years from the punishment her father had promised, but from the disappointment in his eyes. She could hardly bear to see it, but running away had not given her an escape. That look of disappointment had haunted her throughout her travels, finally pulling Karia home. When he punished her upon her return, Karia not only felt the pain of each stroke, but the very deep disappointment in her that he felt.
Karia squared her shoulder’s and lifted her chin. She wanted nothing more in her life than to erase that disappointment in his eyes and replace it with pride. He had always been so proud of her, and had probably spoiled her a bit much when she was growing up. Since her mother had died in childbirth, they had been very close, and he had raised her alone, and taught her to use her powers.
Taking a deep breath, Karia began making her way down the grand hallway before her. The walls on her right were lined with full-size portraits of all the great headmasters ever to lead the ancient Academy, and, to her left, the walls were hung with all the specially honored Sorcerers, Sorceresses, Healers, Seers, Priests, and Priestesses who had graduated from the Academy.
As the hallway stretched on an on, Karia remembered the story she had heard about the magic in this Hallway of Honor. Apparently it had only been fifteen feet in length at the Academy’s inception. Whenever a graduate had earned a portrait of honor, or a new headmaster was appointed, the hallway grew just enough to accommodate the new portrait. By now, it had taken her five minutes to nearly reach the end.
Just before she reached the golden doorway that was elegantly labeled, "Headmaster," Karia was taken by surprise and shock to see her father’s portrait hanging prominently on her left.
Geidin Demer’
Sorcerer and Healer
Portrait of Honor hung in the 1455th year of Our Lady
Geidin Demer’, through the use of powerful magic and great wisdom, prevented the attempted assassination of Prince Arthur IX of the Other World. After rescuing the young Prince from the clutches of the Dark Lord, Vildiablo, Geidin nearly died by draining all his energies and directing them to the magical healing of the Prince’s mortal wounds. Thus risking his own life, Geidin saved the Prince’s life, and ensured the safety of the kingdom.
"Father!" Karia gasped. That was only two years ago! When she was off running from his disappointment, her father had nearly died! The thought of having returned home to a grave brought a flood of tears to her eyes.
She felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder, and, looking up, Karia saw a man whom she knew must be Headmaster Arthur Knightson. He was an awe-inspiring seven feet tall, with silver-gray robes and silver hair and beard to match. From amidst an old and wrinkled face twinkled two blue, kind eyes. In his right hand he held a gnarled wooden walking staff, a little taller than his seven feet. Headmaster Knightson was every bit the picture of the powerful wizard he was famed to be.
His gentle voice said, "You were meant to prevent the Prince’s abduction." Those kind eyes reproved her, "but your father saved the Prince in the end."
Karia’s voice quavered, "He never told me." Tears were coursing down her cheeks now, unstoppable.
Headmaster Knightson placed his hand firmly on the small of her back, guiding her towards the doorway. "Come into my office."
Passing by a group of students seated on large pillows laying about the floor, Karia entered his office. As soon as he closed the door, Headmaster Knightson turned towards her.
Karia shrank back fearfully and instinctively. His eyes were now shining with powerful anger, and she understood why he was respected, both in the Other World and the one she had just come from.
"YOU ARE TEN YEARS LATE!" Headmaster Knightson’s thundering voice set the whole room vibrating.
Pointing the tip of his staff towards her, he growled, "Bend over the table."
Karia had no time to comply before a rush of wind slammed her in the appropriate position over the dark oak table edged with gold. Before her body could even instinctively struggle, a powerful force, yet unseen, held her arms and head against the table. With her hair plastered to her face, Karia could see nothing in the room, which increased her fear to panic.
"I know he would never kill me. I know he wouldn’t kill me. My father would never send me to my death." Karia’s thoughts chanted over and over in her mind, trying to control her panic. She was completely powerless against this powerful sorcerer, and her father was not here to protect her.
The powerful sorcerer roared, "AND STILL," the back of her tunic was ripped cleanly down the middle, "YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF THE SEVERITY AND CONSEQUENCES," her dangling legs were roughly spread out and magically pinned to the table’s legs, "OF YOUR MOMENT OF IRRESPONSIBILITY!"
Karia was already sobbing uncontrollably. Not only did she feel tremendously guilty learning that her father had almost died saving the Prince, when it had been her destiny to protect the Prince, but she was scared, and felt very vulnerable. With her tunic ripped down the middle, her back and bottom were left skyclad. With her legs spread wide open, she could feel the ends of her personal hair rustling from a sudden cold draft of air.
"Ugh . . . ooowwWWWW. . . AAAAHHHHH . . . . IIIIII AAAAAMMMMMM SORRY!!" Karia was sure she had never screamed so loud in her entire life. With all the energy she put into the scream, it did absolutely nothing to relieve the horrendous pain that had erupted on her backside. It felt like he had used his large staff to beat her, but she could not see anything.
As she lay there panting, shocked out of her sobs, Karia heard the door open. She instantly recognized the singing quality of Priestess Evelyn’s voice.
"Arthur, King Lancelot III and Prince Arthur IX have come to the Great Hall. They need to see you immediately."
Although she could see nothing from under her hair, Karia had the sudden impression that the Priestess had just seen Karia in her humiliating position. Karia felt a blush creep up her face and then down to her bottom. For some odd reason, it felt like the Priestess’s gaze had rested on her private, but presently gaping, bottomhole.
Karia then sensed the breeze of an impatient sigh on her back, and heard the Headmaster order, "Stay there, Karia. We are not finished."
As if she could move. After some creaking floorboards told her he was walking towards the door, he said, "Lead the way, Priestess."
The door was either left open a crack purposely or incidentally, and she could hear their conversation as they walked down the hallway.
"How many are you giving her, Arthur?"
"Ten, one for each year she . . . " the Headmaster’s voice trailed off as they walked out of hearing range, but Karia could figure out the rest.
Nine more! She would never survive! Her father had punished her for two hours straight upon her return, but she had never felt anything so painful in her life as that one stroke.
"By the goddess, you must have done something deliciously naughty to warrant a caning like that!" A cool hand lightly touched her blazing bottom, and she sobbed out a reply.
"Ten years ago I would have said it was deliciously naughty; now, I can only say it was a terrible, stupid thing to do."
"You’re being punished for something you did ten years ago?!" The girl went on before Karia could answer. "My name is Rhiannon Tait, after the goddess. What is your name?" The girl’s voice was chirpy, and seemed not to hold Karia’s mortifying position against her.
Karia could only groan her response. "Karia Demer’."
"Demer’!" Rhiannon gasped behind her. "Are you Geidin’s daughter?"
"Well, I am trying to be."
"You must be so proud of your father!" Rhiannon gushed. "Imagine, being Geidin’s daughter!"
Pride was not what Karia was experiencing, but guilt. Guilt for not knowing about her father’s great deeds, guilt for not preventing the Prince’s abduction, and guilt for her failure to do so almost causing her father’s death. Pride could not edge in under the weight of such guilt.
"I’m in the School of Healing Arts. I can take some of the pain away, if you want."
"No!" Karia snapped a bit too quickly. Then sighing, she said, "I deserve it. I really do."
"If you wish, then." Rhiannon sounded a bit disappointed. "I’ll see you tonight then? At the great feast to mark the beginning of the term?"
"Rhiannon, what are you doing in here?" It was the singing voice of Priestess Evelyn, followed by the sound of what Karia guessed was a hasty kneeling by Rhiannon, and kissing of the Priestess’ ring.
"Priestess!" Rhiannon gasped. "I . . ."
"You haven’t healed the pain away, have you?"
Karia whimpered as another cool hand touched her bottom.
"No, Priestess! I offered, . . . I am truly sorry . . . but she refused. She said she really deserved it.."
"I am pleased to hear that, Karia. Rhiannon, leave us, and shut the door behind you. We will speak later."
In her present position, Karia had no idea how to greet the Priestess. "Priestess . . . " For some reason, the fact that the Priestess could see her, bent over the table with legs splayed shamefully open, renewed her sobs.
"Headmaster Knightson must attend to the King and the Prince. I will be completing your punishment." Her voice sang gently, and Karia experienced a wave of relief. Surely nothing could be as bad as the staff of Headmaster Knightson.
The Priestess must have sensed her thoughts, because she went on, "You may not know, but a punishment given by a Priestess of the Healing Arts carries magical properties."
Karia did not know, and she felt her momentary relief fade back into fear.
"Within an hour of your punishment, you will find not a single mark, bruise, or welt left on your skin. The pain of your bruises, however, will continue every bit as intense as when they first developed, until you have truly learned a lesson, and have understood the consequences of your action. The former is up to you, the latter I will help you see, when the time is right. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Priestess." Karia practically whispered in fear, wishing both that the punishment would not start any time soon, and that it would start immediately so that she could get it over with.
"I can not fulfill both wishes at the same time, Karia." The Priestess’s voice was gentle, and soothing. "When you are ready, you may ask me to begin."
Could the Priestess hear every thought in her head? She must know how much worse it was to ask for the punishment, particularly such a harsh punishment. Her legs were cramping from their stretched position, and her face and arms were tired from the force holding her in place. But the pain . . .
Resigned, Karia put up a brave front. "Priestess, please begin."
CRACK! Karia jolted and immediately cried out. The pain of this stroke was just as intense as the Headmaster’s, but Karia could tell that this was no staff, but a long slat of wood, a paddle, striking down the middle of her bottom.
"I have seen, Karia, what you have done, and what you have caused. I want to hear you tell me the story." The Priestess’s voice was calm, without any trace of effort expended at Karia’s backside’s expense.
Karia tried to get her sobs under control so she could speak, but she could barely think from the pain in her bottom. The Priestess waited patiently, and after a long while, Karia began to tell the story.
"From the village," she hiccuped softly on a suppressed sob, "there was a man, a knight, of noble birth. His name was Cyriack, and his hair and eyes were black as a starless night. He was strong, and merciless in battle, but, oh . . ., when he looked at me and smiled, it seemed the whole world burst into song.
"He made me no promises; in fact, from the very beginning he told me he was engaged, from birth, to another of the nobility. But I followed Cyriack like a silly girl, and we became fast friends for three years. I don’t think he ever really saw me as a woman, but as a fellow warrior in training. We often trained together, as I was entering magical tournaments and preparing for the Academy, and he was preparing for jousting and fencing tournaments.
"A week before his wedding, there was a village celebration, with much dancing. Usually the nobility did not attend such things, but Cyriack wanted some fun, and dressed as a peasant.
"I recognized him instantly, but it took Cyriack longer to recognize me. I had on a long white dress, instead of my usual training tunic, and flowers in my hair. He flirted with me from across the square, beckoned for me to dance, and when I moved closer to him, he was shocked to find his training partner as the object of his desire."
As Karia continued with her story, she felt the Priestess’s hand come to rest on the back of her neck. Within moments, Karia was no longer telling a story, but experiencing that time all over again.
"Karia!" Cyriack’s smile brightened up her evening. "Is it really you - my dusty training partner without the smudge on her cheeks and the scraped knees?"
His voice was teasing, even a bit mocking, but as Karia’s eyes locked with his, she saw Cyriack’s eyes were smoldering with just as much passion as hers.
"I have grown into a woman these past few years, perhaps you did not notice?"
Cyriack’s answer was a kiss, and he pulled her into the forest, where they fanned their smoldering passion into flames under the full moon. Karia knew, that to the traditions of her faith and in the eyes of the goddess, such an act under the full moon was tantamount to a binding. Deep down, Karia also knew that Cyriack was to be wed in a week, and that this was her only chance to fulfill her years of longing for this man.
As dawn broke the next morning, Cyriack and Karia parted ways, and Karia would never forget the look of love she had seen in his eyes as he left her. Over the next week, she never saw him at their usual training spots, but the following Sunday, the day after her eighteenth birthday, she saw Cyriack again.
Emerging from the forest, in all his finery, was Cyriack, with his new bride on his arm. The townspeople were gathered around, cheering them and throwing flowers. Karia felt the bite of betrayal, and tears coursed down her cheeks.
Then Cyriack leaned towards his new bride, speaking to her, but it was his look of tenderness towards her that enraged a spark of jealousy in Karia. How could he? How could he choose that mouse of woman next to her, the powerful Karia Demer’, known across the British Isles as the unbeatable competitor in all the magical tournaments? His friend and lover! As a rage of temper roared in her ears, she raised her arms, and without thinking . . .
CRACK! Karia was painfully pulled back to the present as another stroke seared into her backside, landing in exactly the same place as the last stroke.
"AAAHHHHHH . . . . OWWWAH!" Karia gasped for breath, and grotesquely bounced her buttocks in the air, looking for relief from the pain. "By the goddess, PLEASE . . . . OWWW!"
Priestess Evelyn waited for her screams to die down, then spoke. "That was your biggest mistake. You know better than to ever use magic without carefully weighing the consequences. To raise your arms without thinking . . . with the powers you possess?!!"
CRACK! Karia screamed with pain as this stroke scorched her left cheek. With overwhelming humiliation, she felt, almost in slow motion, the paddle snapping down on her cheek, pulling her cheek open, and biting into her private crevice.
Before she could finish screaming, another CRACK! burned into her right cheek. Again, she felt, with great mortification, the paddle reaching into her crevice to almost bite her bottomhole.
"Priestess, please . . . " Karia sobbed, begging. "Please show mercy, I am sorry, I truly am. Please don’t paddle me anymore."
The Priestess did not answer, and Karia, unable to see her, was fraught with fear of the next stroke. At every second she felt terrified it was coming, but not really knowing when, and not knowing where it would strike next on her throbbing bottom. As a result, Karia was unconsciously wiggling her cheeks in fear.
Again the Priestess waited for her sobs to lessen, and placed a warm hand on the back of her neck. "Now remember for me what you did next."
Instantly, Karia was back in the forest, arms raised, and casting a spell. Looking up, she felt great pleasure at seeing her lover’s new bride reduced to a little white mouse. In seconds, she felt a jolt of horror as the towns people were accidentally stepping on the mouse, who was running around wildly in fear.
What was the counter curse? She could not remember how to reverse it, if she had ever learned. Karia looked up at Cyriack, and saw in his eyes the pain of betrayal she had felt earlier. Karia felt nothing but shame as his eyes locked with hers, and the sorrow of her heart breaking as his eyes changed to emanate anger and hatred towards her.
CRACK! CRACK! Two strokes landed precisely where the last two strokes had landed, pulling her cheeks apart and blistering her tiny bottomhole. Karia was overwhelmed with shame, but she was not sure which was the greater pain: the humiliation of her present position, or the look in Cyriack’s eyes.
This time it took much longer for Karia’s sobs to die down. As she started to calm down, she realized the Priestess was rubbing her back, infusing Karia with strength and warmth.
"Priestess, I don’t deserve . . ."
Priestess Evelyn hushed her, "Quiet, daughter. You deserve love; everyone does."
Her statement made Karia cry again, and after a few moments, the Priestess asked, "What happened to the bride?"
"My father," Karia almost whispered, "he performed the counter curse, but when she was turned back to a woman, she was almost dead from the trampling. I could see him healing her from the other side of the village, casting spell after spell, but when she stood up, her nose was crooked and she was missing her left ear."
"Go on." The Priestess patiently prodded, still rubbing her back.
"Cyriack," Karia stifled a sob, "he pointed at me, and the villagers were screaming. They all picked up stones and started throwing them at me." Her pulse was racing as she remembered the fear she felt as the villagers surrounded her. "I tried to run, but I was surrounded, and the stones hurt. My father cast another spell, and the pain left me, and I felt safe - but very sleepy. Before I fell to the ground, I saw Cyriack looking on. He was watching the villagers stone me, trying to kill me. But he stood there, doing nothing but watching, his face as hard as a rock."
"Karia, why did the villagers stone you?"
"How should I know?" she snapped before she could think. "Revenge? Barbarism?"
CRACK! Karia experienced a burning at the tender place where her buttocks met her thighs. Crying, she braced for another stroke, but none came.
A gentle hand was placed at the back of her neck. As Karia was taken back to the stoning again, she heard the Priestess say from a distance, "Look into their eyes, Karia. What do you see?"
Karia again saw the villagers closing in from all sides, yelling at her. "Witch! Witch!" As the stones painfully pelted her, she looked into their eyes, and saw.
"Fear," she whispered.
"Very good." Priestess Evelyn gently pulled the hair from over Karia’s face and tucked it behind her ear, caressing her cheek. This time Karia could see, out of the corner of her vision, the Priestess step back and get ready to deliver another stroke.
CRACK! CRACK! That same tender spot was assaulted twice more with sharp agony, and Karia felt her legs released from the table’s legs, and the pressure holding her arms down likewise release. Still screaming from the final strokes, Karia would have fallen down had the Priestess not supported her.
Her ripped tunic fell to the floor as the Priestess led her to a corner of the room. "Karia, I want you to stand with your nose in the corner while you ponder why the villagers felt fear. When you understand that, focus on their fear, and focus on the future of that fear. I have seen evidence today of your gift of Sight. Perhaps your talents, like your father’s, lie in two schools."
Karia bent on one knee to kiss the Priestess’ ring. "Thank you, Priestess."
Mostly, she felt immense gratitude that she would not feel another stroke of the paddle, but Karia also remembered the gentleness of the Priestess during her punishment, and all that the Priestess had helped her to see. Standing, Karia put her nose in the corner, and heard the door closing as the Priestess left.
For the longest time, Karia could focus on nothing but the pain in her backside, and the sorrow she felt from Cyriack’s hatred. When the pain had become a throbbing, dull, bruised pain that wouldn’t fade, she grew more accustomed to it, and could focus on the Priestess’s command.
Trying to focus on the fear of the bride was hardest. Having experienced being turned into all manner of things in training and in tournaments, she had grown accustomed to becoming a snake, mouse, fly - anything that suited her fancy or needs at the time. Karia wouldn’t have been afraid as a mouse, but then, such things were normal to her.
The bride, however, probably hadn’t known she was a mouse, and had just been suddenly surrounded by hundreds of big, moving feet. That was terrifying, and Karia focused on that fear, trying to see the future of it.
Nothing came.
She tried taking slow, even breaths, focusing on both the fear and her third eye. Still, nothing came.
Time seemed to stand still, and the pain faded as her whole attention was focused on the fear and her third eye. The discipline Karia had when she was younger came back - she once had meditated for two days straight.
Today, however, the trials of the day, and the emotional turmoil of the paddling had worn her out. Karia felt her mind grow very sleepy, and she started to drift off . . .
In dreams, she saw women being dragged behind carts, women tied to a stake and burned alive, screaming in agony. She saw women being stoned to death, and women hung in town squares, all the while, people were shouting, "Witch! Witch! Witch!" Thousands of women, thousands of visions played through her head, in a nightmare that showed no sign of ending.
Abruptly, it did end, as she heard Headmaster Knightson come into the office, saying, "Your Majesty, the Prince’s new powers must be developed. One day, they may save his life in battle against Vildiablo."
A deep, authoritative voice answered, "All those in line for the throne have been murdered, excepting the Prince. If the Prince were to die, Vildiablo, as a distant cousin, is next in line for the throne."
A younger, but still authoritative voice continued, "If he were to become the crown prince, the many good people of this land would fight him. But many of our fickle subjects would turn to their dark side, and follow Vildiablo for the power he could give him."
Headmaster Knightson finished, "It would mean civil war. And civil war could destroy our kingdom."
Although Karia could see nothing with her nose in the corner, she suddenly sensed that all eyes had turned to her. The nakedness of her body caused her bottom to burn and swell larger with shame, and she felt an awkward pause behind her.
On a sigh, Headmaster Knightson introduced her. "This is Geidin’s daughter, Karia Demer’."
Karia had no idea whether she should turn around and curtsey, or stay in her present position. Due to her nakedness, she hoped the corner would continue to cover her breasts and front. Finally, curtseying to the corner, she said, "Honored to meet you, Your Majesty."
Karia could have sworn she heard a chuckle behind her, but the deep, authoritative voice she had heard moments ago answered, "Geidin is a credit to our kingdom. Because of your father, you are always welcome in my palace."
The younger voice, whom Karia assumed was from the Prince, spoke impatiently. "Geidin should be summoned. He was powerful enough to stop Vildiablo before. He can protect the kingdom."
"I have spoken with Geidin through the Looking Glass." Headmaster Knightson’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. "After saving you, he has never regained his full powers back. I suspect they were transferred to you when he performed the healing. Geidin is also busy in their village, repairing relations and removing fear of magic from the villagers."
Karia remembered the future of that fear she had seen, and felt the full weight of guilt’s burden, her bottom throbbing painfully.
Headmaster Knightson squeezed her shoulder, going on. "Geidin believes it is time for his daughter to fulfill her destiny."
"Karia!" Karia heard the Prince sputter angrily. "She’s an irresponsible spoiled brat! I know that her failure to prevent my abduction is due directly to her running away from her father’s punishment - something she rightfully earned from her stupid action."
Headmaster Knightson walked away from her. "Karia won every tournament in her younger years; she was unbeatable. Karia could very well be a powerful sorceress in the future."
The King interjected, "The key word is ‘could,’ and ‘in the future.’ Karia has had her powers stripped from her for nine years. After only a year of training, how much can she remember?"
"All true. Geidin, however, believes her capable, it is her destiny, and Priestess Evelyn, has, in her elusive way, told us that she has ‘Seen.’"
This seemed to clinch it, and Karia felt a spark of happiness erupt in her heart. Her father believed in her?! After all she had done?! The pain in her backside seemed to be fading, as she swore to herself that she would make her father proud. Even the Headmaster and Priestess Evelyn seemed to believe in her now!
"In addition," the Headmaster continued, "all the teachers and myself will be on guard while the Prince is here to study. His new powers must be developed to their full potential."
"Very well." The King was speaking from behind her. "Take us to the Dean. I am trusting the Academy not only with the kingdom, but with my only son."
Karia heard movement behind her, "And you!" A humiliating smack landed on her bottom, more mortifying than painful. "had better not fail either one."
"No, sir. . . uh, . . . Your Majesty." Karia spoke as proudly as she could in her present circumstances. "I will serve the kingdom beyond your expectations."
Silence met her answer, but Karia sensed her answer was met with approval. As they left, she noticed that her bottom was no longer hurting, and Priestess Evelyn entered almost immediately.
"Very well done, Karia." A gentle hand turned her around. "Here is a regulation tunic of the School of Magical Arts. You have been accepted into the Academy."
Karia pulled on the emerald green velvet tunic, anxious to be clothed again, and looked at the Priestess uncertainly.
"You have a question, daughter. Ask it." The Priestess sat down in one of the ornate chairs, and folded her hands on the gilded table.
"Those women . . ." Karia’s eyes filled with tears as she remembered her dream. "I caused all that? Will it really come to pass?"
"It seems it will." Priestess Evelyn sighed sadly. "Five hundred sorcerers and sorceresses will abuse their power, like you did, and in the future, five hundred thousand will die, accused of witchcraft."
Karia’s eyes filled with tears, and she wanted to say, "I’m sorry," but she imagined looking into the eyes of only one of the women burning at the stake, and the mere words seemed so little compensation for the gravity of her action.
Priestess Evelyn gently wiped away the tears trickling down Karia’s cheek. "Your father is working to reverse the damage you have done, but it is right that you carry the burden of those thousand women."
Karia looked down at the floor guiltily, but Priestess Evelyn raised her chin. "You may very well save millions of lives, Karia. Your destiny is great, and the weight of those thousand women will give you a wisdom that is necessary to fulfill that destiny."
The Priestess abruptly stood up. "Come," she commanded. "It is time for you to meet Master Firmstrong."
As the Priestess led her down the long Hallway of Honor, and then down a maze of steps and smaller hallways, she continued to speak.
"You will stay at the Prince’s side at all times. You are both entering the same school, so you will be taking the same classes." The Priestess sighed. "I had hoped that you would also attend the School of Seeing Arts as well, but you must remain with the Prince. I will, however, be meeting with you once a week to work on developing that particular gift of yours."
"Thank you, Priestess." Karia felt grateful, and understood the honor the Priestess had bestowed upon her.
"After the feast, you and the Prince will be shown to a chamber at the top of the main tower. There you will be parted only by a curtain, so that if anything should befall the Prince during his sleep, you will also be awoken. You are only to leave the Prince’s side when he is with the King and the Royal Guards, Headmaster Knightson, Sorceress Morgana, or Master Firmstrong."
As they came to a stop in front of a large, black door, Karia murmured, "Yes, Priestess, I understand." She was determined to make her father proud.
"After you meet with Dean Firmstrong, make your way down this hallway, until you come to the Great Hall. The feast should then be starting, and you can take a place at the Magical Arts Table, next to the Prince."
Karia bowed her head, saying again, "Thank you, Priestess." After blessing her, the Priestess turned, leaving Karia alone to knock on the great black wooden door.
"Enter!" A low voice snarled from behind the door.
As she opened the door, Karia began timidly, "Master Firmstrong?"
"So!" A tall, dark-haired man stood up from behind his desk. "If it isn’t our little prodigal daughter turned golden girl?!"
Karia’s first thought as she took in Master Firmstrong’s thin black mustache and long, pointed noise, was that Master Firmstrong would sooner turn over the Prince to Vildiablo, than be a teacher trusted alone with the Prince.
The Master’s pointed black goatee bobbed up and down with his snarling voice. "There are two hundred and thirty-eight students at the Academy. Over one hundred and seventy are in either the School of Healing Arts, or the School of Seeing Arts. About forty are enrolled in the Graduate Seminary, studying to become Priests and Priestesses."
As Master Firmstrong came out from behind his desk, she saw that he held a long, thin stick stripped of all it’s leaves in his right hand. "How many does that leave in the School of Magical Arts?"
Karia stared nervously at the switch in his hand, then raised her green eyes to meet his black ones. "About thirty, Master."
"She can add, sorcerers and sorceresses!" Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and he used the switch to lift her chin up. "I need not worry overmuch about the School of Healing Arts, they can not very well cause much damage with healing. Nor do I need to worry about students dreaming away in the School of Seeing Arts. Students in the Graduate Seminary are too busy in ritual to provide me with much trouble."
He paused, still holding her gaze, but dropping the switch from her chin. "However," -SWISH- "you students," his voice was practically a whispered growl, but still audible above the -FLACK! "in the School of Magical Arts," -SWICK!- "have far greater powers."
Never moving his piercing black eyes from hers, Master Firmstrong delivered several more licks to her legs, which were completely bare under her short tunic. Refusing to cry, Karia’s eyes brimmed with smarting tears, but she held his gaze defiantly.
Master Firmstrong’s lips curled. "And have you managed, Karia, in your twenty-eight years, to learn what comes with great power?" The switch was resting against the back of her knees, and he brought his face an inch from hers.
Karia cursed herself for dropping her eyes, but spoke proudly, "Yes, Master. With great power comes even greater responsibility."
"Then you will understand," Master Firmstrong stepped behind her, and Karia felt a flash of pain behind her knees. "Why I expect the utmost perfection in behavior, attitude, and discipline of every Magical Arts student!"
A flurry of licks stung her legs from the back of her thighs, all the way down to her ankles. Master Firmstrong then stood beside her, and with each of his next words, the switch bit into the front of her thighs.
"Any! Misstep! Will! Be! Met! With! The! Harshest! Discipline!"
Karia could not prevent the tears from spilling over, or the trembling of her lips, but she stood proudly.
Stepping behind her, Master Firmstrong lifted the back of her tunic up, roughly squeezing her naked right cheek. Karia exhaled with humiliated surprise.
"And what is this? Not a single mark, not a single bruise?" His other hand grabbed her left buttock. "Let me assure you, Karia, that my paddle will leave bruises that will have you standing for seven days!"
Harshly tearing her buttocks wide open, Karia felt a sharp fingernail trace her little hole. "And if your head gets too big from being Little Miss Golden Girl . . ."
Karia closed her eyes in embarrassment as she felt a finger painfully push into her dry bottomhole.
" . . . I know just how to keep you in line." Abruptly, he let go of her buttocks and they snapped together with a mortifying sound. Stepping behind his desk, Master Firmstrong picked up a small book and a piece of paper.
"Here is your schedule, the same as the Prince’s. You will meet with Priestess Evelyn every Monday at three, when the Prince will be with me - " his lips seemed to curl, " - extra training in Dark Arts Defense."
Handing Karia the book, he growled, "This is the Academy’s rule book. I suggest you read it most carefully, as we will be meeting every Friday at three, to review your behavior and actions in the past week." The Dean seemed to almost smile. "Then you will get a special lesson in Dark Arts Defense, ending by midnight. You won’t be wanting supper, I’m sure."
He looked at her expectantly, and Karia realized he expected her to thank him for this extra attention. "Thank you, Master, but where will the Prince be?"
"With the King - he will be in court on Friday evenings, and you," he paused, "will be with me." Sitting down and picking up a quill to write, the Master opened a book.
Without looking up, he growled, "Dismissed!", and Karia immediately left as quickly as she could.
The Dean hated her, for sure! Karia leaned against the wall as soon as she had closed the door. This man was surely evil - and the Prince was to be in a room alone with him? But the Priestess had said the Prince was safe with Master Firmstrong.
Looking down at her stinging legs, she saw angry red welts criss-crossing her legs. Well, if the Prince had seen her naked, standing in a corner, what if the whole school knows she was just switched? Karia started down the hallway, drying her tears and raising her chin bravely.
Reaching the Great Hall, she was amazed to be greeted by a rainbow of colors, and the sounds of excited students chatting happily. At the Head Table sat the Headmaster, Priestess Evelyn, and about twenty other men and women dressed in long, purple velvet cloaks. At her left, was a long table, with a yellow and orange banner hanging above, stating, "School of Healing Arts." Students seated at this table were all dressed in yellow velvet tunics and orange ties about their waists. Karia waved at Rhiannon, and Rhiannon gave her a big, friendly smile.
Turning to her right, Karia saw a long red banner, reading, "School of Seeing Arts." All the students at this table were dressed in matching red velvet tunics. Straight down the middle of the room were two smaller tables. One had no banner, but all the students were dressed in white velvet hooded cloaks - she assumed they were in the Graduate Seminary.
Towards the Head Table, above the other middle table, was a purple banner reading, "School of Magical Arts." At the head of this table was the Prince, in a green velvet tunic to match her own, but the Prince’s tunic had gold stitching and a golden tie about his waist. There was an empty seat on his right, but the rest of the table was filled with chattering students in plain, green velvet tunics to match her own.
As Karia approached the empty seat, the Prince stopped talking with the student on his left and stated, "You must be Karia Demer’." He stood up like chivalrous knight with perfect manners, and held her chair for her. Softly, in her ear, so that no one else could hear, he pointed out, "I’m afraid I’ve only had the honor of meeting your bottom."
Karia blushed as she remembered curtseying to the corner, showing only her backside in an effort to preserve her modesty in front. As she sat down, she realized the Prince was staring at the welts on her legs.
"And you are to be my protector?" The Prince scoffed softly, taking his seat again.
A bit too loudly, Karia shot back, "At least I am not in need of a protector because I can not take care of my own self!"
Those students within hearing distance hushed, shocked to hear someone speak with disrespect to the Crown Prince. Karia herself was a bit shocked, but held the Prince’s gaze stubbornly. As she noticed his muscled arms, and obviously very fit body, Karia felt a tiny bit foolish.
The Prince was silent for a moment, studying her. "There are very few with your father’s powers, Karia. Do you believe yourself as powerful as he, able to face Vildiablo alone?"
His voice was gentle, but Karia was sharply reminded of her failure to fulfill her destiny in the past, causing her father to nearly die. She felt the full weight of Prince Arthur’s admonishment, and looked down at her empty plate.
With a strong hand under her chin, the Prince pulled her chin up, forcing eye contact. "Perhaps, working together, we will be strong enough to save this kingdom from Vildiablo."
His blue eyes twinkled under his sandy blond hair. The Prince winked at Karia, raising his glass, "To Geiden!"
Karia did not need a gift of Sight to see that Prince Arthur would make a great diplomat, leader, and King. Lifting her glass to his, she replied, "To Father!"
