The Skyhome Academy

Emma followed Rose and Simon up the stairs and back into hell. The healer did not know how the others could stand killing, or being shot at so frequently—her support role allowed her to stay a bit further back from the danger, but despite this only her desire not to fail Rose had kept her from fleeing the battle in terror.

This fear grew worse when they came up against General Griffonskull herself—her magic was not quite as powerful as Tessel’s, but she made up for it with the lethal accuracy of her caustic attacks. It was difficult to believe that this slight young woman in a drab brown uniform could be the cause of so much suffering and death.

The conflict continued much as it had. In keeping with the principles of triage, Emma focused on stabilizing those casualties who could be saved using as little mana as possible. Though it pained her to do so, she ignored dying enemies entirely—she was allowed to help them only after all her allies were safe.

“Please help!” one loyalist soldier cried out in agony as the healer moved among the fallen.

Emma knelt beside him and saw that his stomach wound was obviously fatal. “It’ll be all right,” she lied softly. She held out a hand toward him. In his weakened state, only a minor spell was needed to render him unconscious.

The healer ignored her guilt and moved on. The next soldier she treated had a serious wound on his arm. Her magic stopped the bleeding.

“I’ll get you clear of the fighting,” she told him, raising her voice to be heard over a series of fireballs that shot across the chamber. She grabbed his uninjured arm, and there was a flash of light as she extended her shield around him. “Stay low. We’re going to those stairs.” She pointed, and together they hurried along the catwalk in the direction she had indicated. They stayed crouched between the plates that held up the railings and reached relative safety at the bottom of the stairs. Emma parted from the man and returned to the battle.

“Cadet Smallport, to me!” she soon heard Lord Spellshield shout.

“Yes, Sir!” Emma was terrified that something had happened to Rose.

But when she joined the Spellshields, it was her sister who pointed her in the direction of a nearby control room. “Bakersfield was hit by a fireball.” Rose then returned to firing her arcane bolts at a far-off enemy. Emma realized that the telepath’s injury had ended her mental connection with the others.

Once inside the relative safety of the cramped room, she found Specialist Bakersfield sitting against a wall with a burn on his chest. He struggled to breathe as he coughed up blood. Seeing someone she knew in such a state upset the healer, but she forced herself to continue ignoring her emotions.

The burn where his uniform had been was not too serious, but she knew that fireballs caused injury through both heat and concussive force. She cast a diagnostic spell to confirm the severe lung contusion she suspected.

“I’ll be casting spells on your lungs,” Emma warned the telepath. “It will feel unnatural, but try not to resist.” What followed taxed her skill with magic to its limits. While enhancing his breathing to ensure that his body received enough oxygen, she simultaneously began healing his lung damage. She had neither the time nor the mana to heal the wound completely—her goal was only to get her patient safely breathing on his own.

Emma concentrated for several tense minutes, trying not to let the chaotic noise of the battle outside the room disrupt her focus. But finally she was successful. “You’ll be okay now. Just stay put.” Bakersfield’s breathing was only slightly labored, and he had ceased coughing. He offered the healer a weak smile before she exited the room.

Rose was fighting nearby, and Emma took the opportunity to silently check on her mana regeneration—unfortunately, it was still fairly strong. Once her sister’s regeneration dropped off, surely the healer would be able to convince Lord Spellshield to order her to withdraw. Then both Rose and Mei would be safe, at least for a time. Emma hoped that Simon could soon leave the fighting without injury as well.

She returned to her healing duties, but then saw disaster suddenly threaten Rose and Simon. A catwalk supporting them broke apart due to an attack by Griffonskull. Both cadets slid down a steep incline toward a fall that would end with dissociation in the mana singularity. Emma could only watch this helplessly, too frightened to even cry out.

At the last moment before she would have fallen, Rose managed to catch onto a railing and stop. Simon used his telekinetics to halt his slide. They then started climbing up the hanging remnant of the catwalk. Magical attacks struck near them, but thankfully few were on target and none enervated the pair. Lord Spellshield and other soldiers engaged in suppressive fire to cover the ascent.

Just as the two cadets were about to reach safety, there was the sound of metal tearing. They scrambled the remaining distance desperately. The hanging section of catwalk lost its connection to its neighbor and plummeted toward the singularity just as they reached safety.

The battle raged on, and Emma’s mana regeneration dropped off due to fatigue. She worried that she might be forced to withdraw herself, but finally the end to the struggle approached. After the rapid defeat of several combatants on both sides, only General Griffonskull was still standing among the enemies. But Lord Spellshield, Rose, and Simon were the last ones still able to oppose her.

Griffonskull, who had been firing at the opposition from a higher catwalk than they held, apparently decided to gamble the outcome of the battle on a final attack. She jumped from her perch and landed beside Lord Spellshield, keeping him between her and the cadets so that they could not intervene. The mage and the general unloaded their most powerful magic at each other at point blank range—rapid fire arcane bolts against a stream of murky, destructive base. It was Lord Spellshield’s protection that failed, and Emma watched in horror as he collapsed backwards and fell still.

Rose immediately gave up the fight to drag him away from the area where he had stood, as it was surrounded by concentrated base. Emma ran over to help her. Simon used his telekinetics to assist them when they proved unequal to the task of moving him quickly.

The healer immediately realized after they moved him that Lord Spellshield was dead. While his protective spell had blocked nearly all of the liquid, what had gotten through had burned his chest right at his heart. And there was no magic to save someone whose heart had been destroyed. Emma allowed her arcane shield to lapse—if Lord Spellshield’s magic had not been equal to Griffonskull’s onslaught, what could her own do?

“No…” Rose whispered, and shook her father’s arm.

“Oh, so that was the great William Spellshield,” Griffonskull said in a mocking, silky tone as she stood over him and looked to his uniform. “I wish I could say that I was more impressed.”

The despair Emma saw in her sister’s eyes turned to rage. Rose stood. “Shut up, shut up! Don’t talk about him like that!”

“Oh dear—you’re the daughter, are you? I suggest you put aside your petty outrage and start begging for your life. After all, his death was more merciful than any mage deserves.”

“SHUT UP!” Rose screamed, and began attacking Griffonskull were her arcane bolts. Simon backed her up with the same spell, while Emma transferred her remaining mana to Rose.

This all proved futile. Griffonskull took down Simon with a couple blasts of lightning. Emma crawled over to him and checked for a pulse. She was amazed to find him unconscious rather than dead. Her moment of relief ended when Rose’s arcane shield flared to signal her enervation. A small sphere of liquid base hit her left shoulder, and she fell with an agonized scream.

“Rose!” Emma cried before going to her. Mercifully, her sister quickly lost consciousness.

One of the most important rules of healing was to not endanger oneself to help a patient. And since Emma was now enervated, she could not cast without putting her life at risk. She looked to the caustic burn on Rose’s shoulder where part of her uniform had once been, and suddenly Emma no longer cared about that rule. She began conjuring weak acid to neutralize the base and stop the injury from growing worse.

“You’re wasting your time,” Griffonskull said impatiently. “I tend to avoid killing peasant children—but if this noble is so insistent on dying with her father, who am I to argue?” The general held out a hand toward Rose.

“Please leave her alone!” Emma gasped. Her enervated casting was leaving her short of breath and exhausted, but she managed to interpose herself between Rose and Griffonskull.

“Are you enervated? Stop casting, you fool.” Griffonskull made a brushing-off gesture towards Emma, and the healer was struck by a telekinetic force. She tumbled several yards away along the catwalk.

The general pointed once more toward Rose, prepared to cast the spell that would end her life. Emma held out a pleading hand. “Please don’t, please!”

Griffonskull looked to Emma and hesitated. Her expression suggested that she had recognized something. “…⁠Sacrifice yourself for your oppressor then,” the general said resentfully.

Emma crawled back over to Rose and finished neutralizing the base. This casting caused her to experience more symptoms of enervation—a cold sweat, dizziness, and a headache.

Then she felt the castle decelerate and halt. She was almost convinced she had imagined this due to her compromised sense of balance, but then Griffonskull cried out in rage. “Damn it, no!”

Far below, Emma heard Prince Robert shouting. “Secure the chamber! See to the wounded!” There was also the sound of a number of people running on metal.

This was soon followed by an unholy screech from above. A beast landed on the catwalk next to Griffonskull, and Emma quickly looked away when she realized it was the cockatrice—meeting the gaze of one of these monsters without an arcane shield was fatal.

The creature took off, and when Emma finally looked up, she saw that the general had left with it. She dared to think her nightmare was over, but then she checked Rose’s pulse and found it thready.

“Help! Help!” Emma cried, though her voice sounded weak. She realized that she could not count on anyone else to arrive in time and cast a diagnostic spell. She found Rose’s heartbeat to be failing, but in a shockable rhythm. Emma opened Rose’s jacket and held out two fingers just above her chest on either side of her heart. She then attempted to stabilize her with a shock of magical electricity.

Rose convulsed once. Before Emma could confirm whether or not her spell had succeeded, pain wracked her body and she found herself struggling to breathe—the final symptoms of extreme enervation. She collapsed beside Rose and felt herself losing consciousness. Emma realized that she had no idea if she had saved her sister’s life—but she had almost certainly ended her own.