Polar Opposites

Sabreur made it home just around sunset.  The Ark had a second sunset that night as Sabreur tried out his new ring, with the usual results.  ‘Usual’ means screaming and burning and panic, but the crew was used to explosions at this point and aside from the initial shock, there was little excitement.  After the pyrotechnics Langley dragged her brother back to below decks to plan their next couple days before leaving harbor again.  They both agreed on visiting the school.  Meeting with the merchant.  Take a day to load up on cargo and supplies, and then leave on the next.  Sabreur would have liked to stay longer, but the increasing frequency of boarding and inspections had his sister worried.  She would rather not have any government officials aboard the Ark; not because they were doing anything illegal, but because some of the modifications they had made to their skimmer didn’t have a permit.  There was no permit that could be obtained for them.  That was what had Langley worried.

Like most schools, the majority of the students got up late and stayed up late.  Most professors – save the occasional sadist – allowed some leeway for this pattern.  Dog was one of the sadists.  So Langley and Sabreur woke with the dawn and yawning, trucked off the Ark and across the streets of the capital towards the Academy.  While Langley purchased some breakfast rolls from a nearby store, Sabreur slipped off to gain them admittance to the school.

There were several entrances to the place.  Due to the nature of the topics being covered and the various areas of research it was deemed that no unauthorized visitor should be allowed on campus.  Students routinely broke this rule by bringing friends, but it was under the condition that they were responsible for them and had to be present with the visitor at all times.  So, if someone stepped within the teleportation circle of a voidmancer and wound up in the northern pole, it was not the school’s responsibility.  

This meant that there were guards at each entrance and all students had to show ID prior to entering.  Of course, in the grand tradition of guards everywhere, these were easily bribed, intimidated, or simply too disinterested to care.  

“Yes, I used to be a student here,” Sabreur was saying, his hand twitching a bit as he waited for the right moment to pull out his matchbox, “dropped out a couple years ago.  So I know the rules and stuff and am far too smart to get myself vaporized or turned into a rabbit.”

“Just visiting an old teacher, right?”

One of the guards was interested.  The other appeared to be falling asleep where he stood.  Must’ve been a rough night or his relief watch was late.

“That’s right.  Dog, the martial and bestiamancer professor.”

“Oi, I know Dog.  Good man.”  The guard brightened up considerably.  Sabreur covertly looked over to the shop Langley was in.  Through the window he could see her paying for the food.  He didn’t have much time left to pull out the fire.

“But why you here so early?  Most professors don’t get to their office for another hour or so.”

“Dog is a morning person.  He’ll be at the training field right now with the poor souls that either enrolled late or didn’t pay attention to the listed time while scheduling.”

“Yep, you know Dog alright.  Just don’t tell anyone I let you in.”

He stepped aside, Sabreur nodded, and waved for Langley to hurry up.  She broke into a jog and shoved his breakfast into his hands as they passed through the gate, nodding at the guard in thanks.  The other just stifled a yawn.

“Jeez, what is this stuff?” Sabreur asked.

“Honey roll for you.  Mine has chocolate filling.”

“Isn’t it a bit early for a sugar rush?”

“Any time is appropriate for sugar.”

And she managed to eat about a third of it in one bite.



The training field was on the far end of campus, where the buildings panned out into open fields and a bit of forest.  The more dangerous ‘mancy was conducted here, away from the valuable structures and where the city wouldn’t become collateral damage. The training field Dog used had a small building that housed the equipment nearby and was situated just above a hill that rolled down into a pond.  The professor usually started his first class of the year by thrashing one of the new students, knocking them upside the head to stun them, and then tripping them to roll down the hill and into the lake.  Sabreur had been the unfortunate ‘volunteer’ for this demonstration his first year there, and Langley had been the one to pull him out of the water, cursing their new teacher under her breath the entire time.

She did a lot of cursing at Dog in their time at the Academy.  Langley did not take to being frustrated very well, and that was Dog’s specialty in teaching.

“Oi!  Dog!”

Sabreur raised his hand in greeting and the hulking figure looked up from where he stood at the front of a small group of students.  

“Oi!  Sabs!”

He broke from the class and made his way towards them.  Dog was a big man, grizzled like his namesake, heavily built with pepper-gray hair.  In one hand was a staff and Langley could see similar weapons in the hands of the students.  They were holding them like they didn’t know what to do with them.

“I was just about to give a demonstration on proper use of this,” the professor said, “but somehow I think this group won’t give me a very good victim.  Langley, sweetie, good to see you again.  Mind giving these students a show for me?”

“Hell.  No.”

“Sabs?”

“Sure!”

And that, Langley reflected, was why of the two of them, she was best suited to being captain of the Ark.  She didn’t do insane and stupid stuff like this.

“I’m not hauling your ass out of the lake this time,” she muttered.

“Alright kiddies!” Dog boomed as they approached the students, “You’re spared.  Two of my old pupils have returned from their hijinks on the high seas.  Meet Langley and Sabreur Stormrider.  Langley is a skimmer captain and Sabreur… what are you anyways Sabs?”

“No idea.”

“Resident mad scientist.”

“Right.  That.”

He gestured for one of the students to hand Sabs his staff.  The boy was all too ready to comply.

“Now, I’ll explain technique after.  For now, just watch and remember that you’ll be able to do this as well someday.”

“Will it take as many bruises as learning sword?”  The voice that asked sounded scared.  Dog only flashed a big grin at the class in response, which did nothing to alleviate their fears.

And then they fought.  Staff was not Sabreur’s specialty and so Langley knew that the contest was pretty much one-sided.  Still, he made a good showing of it.  Her brother wasn’t as strong as Dog, but he was fast and agile, and he used that to stay out of Dog’s reach until he was ready to make a strike of his own.  In the end though, it was a delaying of the inevitable, and when Sabreur paused for a second Dog lunged and the twin found himself well within Dog’s reach, which is never a safe place to be.  Even Langley had to wince at the meaty smack that sent Sabreur’s feet tumbling above his head and landed him flat on his back on the grass.

“No mommy, I really didn’t catch the cow on fire this time,” he said in a weak voice.

“And that, kiddies, is how you fight with a staff.”  Dog beamed at the students and they all stepped a couple paces backwards.




“I’m glad you came to visit,” Dog told them as they walked back from the training field.

Sabreur was limping slightly from having his legs smacked out from under him.  Bruised, but nothing broken.

“I wouldn’t trust this to anyone else.  Well, there isn’t anyone with the motivation to go.  They’re all sitting there, noses stuffed into their own academia garbage, and you mention walking across town to look into some unusual ‘mancy and they act like you’ve just suggested that Tern’s third principle of ‘mancy school conversion is bunk.  I’m almost afraid to mention the idea of an expedition to the poles to them.  They’d have a collective heart-attack.”

“Dog,” Langley panted, having some difficulty in keeping up with Dog’s long strides, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, did I not mention it?  I need you to go to the poles for me, specifically the south one.  You’re the only one I know with a ship agile enough to navigate those waters and the only ones with the guts and curiosity to do it.”

“Dog,” Sabreur said, “The poles are home to exiles, rogues, and criminals of all sorts.  Why in the eighteen principles of pyromancy would you want us to go there?”

He stopped and turned to look at the both of them.

“Why, because of the undead penguin we found, of course.”

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