The three left their room, leaving a sad looking Azra behind. Seb got his old black turtle neck and long coat on, while his companions both wore ordinary t-shirts and pants.
“We’ll be back soon!” Dorin said white patting Azra’s shoulder.
[Don’t let anyone inside, we left food on the table and in the fridge and in the cupboard] Seb fussed, [If someone knocks, just pretend that there’s nobody in the room]
“We better hurry,” Johan rushed down the stairwell, “Mrs. Cooper don’t like tardiness.”
“Should we use a translocation spell?” Dorin looked at Seb.
[No indiscriminate use of magic] the other wrote.
“Well, better make a run for it then,” Johan said as he sprinted across the 5th floor hallway.
Just as he made a turn towards the main staircase, a group of 4 students suddenly stepped into view, blocking his way. Johan was about to collide with the person in front when a blast of cold wind almost blew him away.
“What insolence!” shrilled an angry voice. “Who are you bastards?! What are you doing on this floor?”
Johan stood straight and stared at the new comers. He went silent.
“We’re from upstairs,” Dorin replied in his place, “sorry, we’re in a hurry right now.” He pulled Johan along as he made his way to the staircase.
“Halt. You are not leaving until I tell you to do so,” the shrill voice called back.
Dorin ignored him and instead, kept going down the stairs with Johan and Sebastian close behind him.
“I said halt!”
“You were told to stop,” said another voice, this one deeper, just as Dorin and the others were almost on the 4th floor landing.
There was suddenly a strong wind blowing against them, keeping them from reaching the landing. Dorin looked sharply back at the group and was about to retaliate when Seb held him back.
[Dorin] he wrote, [No fighting] Dorin looked at his friend darkly.
“They are being a nuisance,” Dorin replied. “Can’t I? Just a little?”
“Can’t you what?” taunted the shrill voice. “You think the likes of you can do anything to someone from the imperial capital?!”
Dorin Looked back at the bearer of the shrill voice, his eyes glinting. The speaker flinched and stepped back involuntarily. “They are from the empire,” he spoke. “They are ene- OW!”
Dorin rubbed his head and frowned at Sebastian. [We are late for kitchen duty.] he wrote, holding the slate right in front of Dorin’s face.
“T-that’s right! Go run along to the kitchens!” shrill voice called back in his annoying tone. “That’s where scum like you belong!”
“Venet. Enough,” they heard the deep voice say. “Just let them go.”
“Lucky bastards,” shrilled Venet. But before he turned away, he let go another wind that hit the three companions from behind.
Dorin braced himself, keeping his temper at check, while Johan still kept silent. Seb, on the other hand, tripped on the last step and fell on Johan’s back.
The temperature suddenly dropped.
Dorin turned around, took Seb in his right arm and pushed Johan with his left. He looked up at the tall mage who was staring at them tauntingly from the top of the stairs, and with one sharp tune from his lips, sent Venet flying up to the ceiling.
“Wahahaa!” came an amused laugh from behind him. “Way to go Dorin!” said Johan, slapping him on the back.
[Now you’ve done it!] Seb stepped in front of him, holding the slate.
“Let’s make a run for it!” Johan said, still laughing. But Dorin did not budge.
The other mage, the one with the low voice, suddenly appeared on top of the stairs and slashed an arm towards them. The carpeted staircase ripped as his wind attack rushed towards the 3 companions. Unfazed, Dorin gave another whistle. The other’s attack hit an invisible wall of air. The mage’s eyes looked at them with disbelief.
“Boulvar!” came a voice that was no longer that shrill. “This is my fight!”
Venet came back into view. He looked murderous, and no longer stood as tall as he did a minute ago.
“You got him mad!” said Johan with a chuckle. Sebastian kept tugging at Dorin’s sleeve but the other won’t even look at his slate.
“You shall curse the day you crossed paths with Venet the Viper!” the other hissed. Johan snorted as he tried not to laugh too loud.
Venet the Viper raised his arms with hands shaped like snakes and started slashing the air with it.
“Viper Strike!” he hissed. Sharp gusts of wind assaulted the 3 companions, but not one was able to hit them. The walls beside Dorin showed cracks and signs to being slashed, for all of Venet’s attacks just slipped to the side or over to the ceiling. The Viper finally stopped his futile attack, looking confused.
“Why can’t I hit you?!” he shouted in another shrill voice.
Dorin kept silent. Seb was still trying to get his attention, and there were noises behind them suggesting that the other dorm residents were already awake and watching them, but he refused to look away.
The last time he did, he and Seb almost got caught by the imperial mages.
[Dorin!] Seb’s slate cut his field of vision as it was thrust right in front of his face. [That’s enough. Let’s go.]
“They won’t stop.” He murmured, pulling the slate down. “As soon as we turn our backs, they attack us.”
“Should we immobilize them?” Johan asked, cracking his knuckles.
“Can we?” Dorin asks Seb.
[NO! Of course not!] Seb stomps his feet angrily. He faces the Viper and shows him his slate. [We are leaving. Stand down.]
“Don’t you tell me what to do, you little freak!”
Before Seb could react, he felt a charge pass him from behind. With no warning, a cyclone materialized around Venet and closed in on him. The viper tried to get away, to claw at the wall of wind, but he took a gasp, rolled his eyes, and fell on the floor before his companion could even catch him.
“Way to go!” cheered Johan, “Is he dead?”
“No,” replied Dorin, his eyes still on their enemies. “I sucked the air out of his lungs by raising the air pressure around him,” he explained. “He just passed out.”
The three watched as the other mage called Boulvar checked on his fallen companion.
“He’s not breathing!” Boulvar cried. Two more figures appeared on the upper landing. One of them knelt over the body and hit it sharply on the chest area. Venet gasped and began to cough.
“See, he’s still alive,” said Dorin, his face blank.
[Come on, let’s leave. Now.] Sebastian pulled at Dorin and Johan. Finally, Dorin let himself be led away.
“Wait.” The last person in the group of 4 called after them. “Tell me who you are,” he ordered. “We just came here this morning from the capital,” he hurriedly added when Dorin and his companions ignored him. “I apologize if my companions have offended you. They do not know much about the ways here in your University...”
The tall young man started to walk down the stairs and approached Dorin. Boulvar was about to spring to his side, but the other held him back. He had long red hair tied back in a neat braid and dark red eyes. His clothes were very extravagant, from the thick travelling coat to the tall silver boots and the golden brooch on his left shoulder in the image of a sun. Dorin felt Seb’s grip on his arm tighten.
“I am Alexander Bryon Louise Alcione, third crown prince of the Holy Alcione Empire,” said the tall red haired youth. “My companions were only concerned for my safety, so please excuse their behaviour.”
Dorin looked at the prince, then at his companions who were glaring at him. He could hear people at the back murmuring at the sudden turn of events.
“Okay.” Dorin simply replied. “Apology accepted.” He turned his back against Prince Alexander.
The other residents who crowded behind them quickly parted as Dorin and his companions made their way down the next stairwell.
Back on the 4th floor landing, Prince Alexander watched them leave with a lopsided grin on his face.
“Are you just going to let them get away, your highness?” Boulvar stood beside him, supporting an unconscious Venet.
“We’ll be meeting them again,” he smiled, “Soon.”