Date: Sat, 28 Feb 2015 09:25:46 -0500
From: George Gauthier <georgegauthierdc@gmail.com>
Subject: Elf-Boy's Friends 10

     			Elf-Boy's Friends 10
			The Troll War, Part I
			War Wizards
 			by George Gauthier

[The further adventures of characters from the novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends']

		Chapter 1. Liam

"Sir Willet, I hate to bother you this late in the afternoon when you are
getting ready to leave the institute, but there is a boy in the outer
office whom you really should meet. It looks like he has the gift of
wizardry. First off he has those wizards' eyes...

"Yes, yes, Axel," the war wizard replied, impatient with the importuning of
his young aide. "You know perfectly well that many whose eyes are of
different colors never manifest the wizardly gift. That is an all too
common misconception."

"Anyway, how did this boy get past the guards? People cannot just walk into
the Institute of Wizardry. And why has he presented himself here, at our
office door?"

"This boy has a letter of introduction from your protege, that cute fetcher
Drew Altair."

"Ah, the fellow red-head who caught your fancy. And has this new boy done
so as well?"

Axel flushed.

At only seventeen, short, fair, with hair the color of copper, and
extremely boyish looking, Axel was young for his job as an aide to a war
wizard of the Commonwealth, but Sir Willet Hanford wanted someone with the
energy of youth to keep up with him when they went out in the field, both
for training or on a mission.

Thanks to his own magically enhanced vitality, Sir Willet could look
forward to five or six centuries of health and vigor, the only sign of his
first five decades some laugh lines around the eyes and a touch of grey at
the temples in his otherwise dark brown hair. With Axel still in his teens,
his new aide would be around for a good long while.

"That's just it sir. This boy's eyes shine with the silver light of the
moon-glow."

"I see. In that case you were correct to insist that I meet him. By all
means, Axel, send the boy in and thank you."

The visitor entered and introduced himself as Liam, a native of the Western
Plains, until recently a driver of a mail coach out of Flensborg, the
capital of New Varangia. He handed the wizard Drew Altair's letter. Sir
Willet read it then studied his visitor.

Liam was dressed in a green sarong, sandals, and a buckskin vest nearly the
color of his sun bronzed skin. Small and lacking buttons or ties, the vest
was more an accessory than a garment, barely covering his pectorals and
leaving his midriff bare. Yet somehow the outfit managed to look both
classy and sexy at the same time.

Liam was a well-set up lad with a fine healthy body. Just under medium
height and on the slender side but with a strong upper storey, he had wide
shoulders and muscled arms from handling teams of four for a living.

He was blessed with good looks too. Liam was a real raven-haired beauty
though you would describe him as pretty rather than handsome. His
fine-boned features were accented by a light sprinkling of freckles. His
was one of those open and honest faces seemingly without guile. And yes,
his left eye was blue and the right one brown, and there was no doubt about
the moon-glow. All in all the boy made a very good impression on the
wizard.

"I sense great possibilities in you, young man, though only time will tell
how far you go. You come well recommended. Drew Altair is a leader in the
community of the gifted. His newsletter has generated great interest in
magical gifts."

"The Institute of Wizardry advances the magical arts through teaching,
research, and publications. As a senior war wizard I am in a position to
offer you a student internship here, working for and studying under me. The
job involves occasional travel and comes with a decent stipend of a hundred
silvers a month. What do you say?"

"I accept most willingly, Sir Willet. My gift has just started to manifest,
and I am afraid I know little about magic save what everyone knows: that
most people on Haven have one or two magical gifts though most are modest
like Calling Light or a Green Thumb."

"Wizards are sometimes described as having many gifts, but what we really
have is a single strong and versatile gift, one which lets us work many
kinds of magic. It just looks like multiple gifts. I myself could be
considered a Firecaster and Fetcher and a Water Wizard all rolled into one,
with a touch of Weather magic as well, enough to teach you anyway. As with
all wizards, the moon-glow gives us the ability to see in the dark, or
rather in dim light like a cat."

"In addition to the gifts that manifest by themselves in our youth, there
are magical abilities which we wizards can acquire through study and mental
disciplines such as Concealment, our so-called Missile Shield, and white
fire, which is quite distinct from regular firecasting."

"You have already met my aide Axel Wilde. You will be working with both of
us so try to get to know him. Axel is helpful and personable."

He too has several gifts, all modest but quite useful. Like many persons
Axel can Call Light, but his balls of illumination persist for hours
without his attention and will hover where he sets them even when he moves
away. Thanks to his gift of Unerring Direction Axel is also the perfect
guide. Show him a destination on a map, and he can lead you straight
there. He never loses his way."

"I don't have that particular gift sir, but living the life of a nomad I
learned to find my way in the wilds. And as a coach driver I learned to use
the Commonwealth's maps."

"Excellent. Between the two of you, I won't have to worry about getting
lost in the field, which can be embarrassing to a war wizard, believe me. I
can read a map all right, but only for planning purposes. I find it hard to
relate what is on the map to actual terrain. All of which makes me terrible
at what the Army grandly calls the Art of Land Navigation."

"I should add that Axel is blessed with a type of eidetic memory. He never
forgets anything he has read or written down and retains almost total
recall of the spoken word too, for long enough to transcribe what he has
heard. This gift is tied to language. It does not extend to events."

"As for his non-magical gifts, Axel writes with the clearest hand I have
ever seen. Thanks to his abilities, I can dictate a letter which he
transcribes flawlessly and with perfect legibility. Or I dictate a draft of
an article for our journal then edit his transcription -- not for any
errors on his part, you understand -- but for changes or additions that
occur to me as I look it over. My old mentor once told me that there is no
such thing as good writing, only good re-writing."

"In the five short months he has worked here Alex has become
indispensable. I wonder now how I ever got along without him.

"Now we will have to find you a place to live."

"Actually I already have one."

Liam explained that he had just that morning settled into the guest room of
the suite leased by the twins Jemsen and Karel in a residential hotel not
far off. The arrangement included housekeeping and meals at no cost to him.

"Excellent. How is it that you know the famous twins? I only know of them
myself, but I have heard great things about them from my protege Drew
Altair. And how did you meet Drew anyway?"

"We were boyfriends in New Varangia, though for only the week I drove their
coach from Flensborg to the border with the Flatlands."

"So that is where he went off to. No wonder I could not get in touch with
him just recently. His parents could only tell me that he had been called
up again for a mission they themselves knew nothing about."

"Nor do I."

"No matter. Let's have Axel back in now. I'll have him show you around the
institute. I think you will like it here."

As the boys toured the building and facilities Axel briefed Liam on the
routine while also sounding the new boy out.

"Sarongs are perfectly acceptable for daily wear around here. As you can
see a sarong is what I wear myself, though never with a top like yours."

"It's a look that flatters you Axel, a simple dark sheath wrapped low
around you leaving your slender torso bare to the hips. Uh, and what are
those things on you feet?"

"They are called moccasins. They're like slippers but intended for
outdoors. Hunters wear them. They are comfortable even on hard ground or
stone floors and very quiet."

"As an intern you will be issued several sets of the green silk uniforms
including both boots and moccasins. What you saw Sir Willet wearing is the
garrison uniform with half sleeves. The field uniform covers the arms and
comes with a steel helmet and leather breastplate reinforced with
studs. Nothing fancy which would mark you as a target to an enemy."

"Besides our jobs, all of us younger guys are required to exercise
regularly to keep ourselves fit for field duty. At close of business three
times a week we report to the training ground where we do some stretching,
running, wrestling as well as practice hand to hand combat, sword practice,
that sort of thing."

"Oh, I need to ask Liam, have you trained with the blade?"

"Indeed, I have. As you might expect of horsemen, we nomads favor the
saber. I'm no master swordsman, but I can handle myself."

"Good, that is one less thing to worry about. You can concentrate on
physical conditioning. I can see you have a strong upper storey, but I'll
bet you don't have the kind of stamina that comes from running and
swimming."

"I never had the time for it before, but I will now. Let me guess. We train
in the nude."

"Naturally."

"Which brings me to two of Sir Willet's colleagues you should be wary
of. First there is Sir Ahndray who is not a bad sort really, but he likes
to watch us boys train. His sits on a bench and ogles our sweaty naked boy
flesh. He likes the wrestling best of all, no doubt for the way wrestlers
grapple and twist and mount each other suggestively. Sometimes we react to
all that bodily contact too. Involuntary erections in a clinch are not
unknown."

"Sir Ahndray has some skill as artist and pays pretty boys to pose for
him. He says he wants to immortalize us, to capture us on canvas just as we
are in the full bloom of our youth before it fades. I once modeled for him
myself. He pays well; I'll give him that, though he likes to touch his
models as he helps them assume there poses. Sometimes he wants more and is
prepared to pay for it too. Just say no. He'll be disappointed but won't
hold it against you. He is not a bad sort really."

"Then there is Sir Janus. He is just the opposite. I could say that he is
morose, quick tempered, and a snob, but that is just for starters. The man
scares me. Avoid him, and never ever let yourself be alone with
him. Otherwise, the folks around the institute are regular sorts."

"Anyway, is it true Liam that you are seventeen years old just like me?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I do hope we will become good friends, since we will be together so
much. You will find that most folks at the institute are cordial but
largely self-absorbed. The study of magic is everything to them. It is why
even Sir Willet, fine man though he is, lost his wife to divorce. I heard
that she publicly chided him for being married more to his work than to his
spouse.

"You'll like working for him as much as I do. He sets you a task and then
lets you do it. As long as you finish promptly he does not look over your
shoulder or pester you for progress reports. And he shows his appreciation
by word and deed. For instance, I didn't much like where I first put up, so
he found me new digs which were ever so much better, especially the food. I
now have a sunny room in a boarding house not far from here. It's quiet at
night too, thanks to thick walls."

"Is that a hint?"

"Yes, it is. I hope I am not being too forward."

"Not at all, and I can tell you frankly that I like what I see, but first
let's get to know one another as colleagues then see where that takes us."

"All right!"

			Chapter 2. The Intern

The new intern undertook his duties with good cheer, no matter how humble
the task. He carried messages, swept and tidied up the offices, shelved
books in the library, helped Axel file and retrieve letters and documents,
and even watered and trimmed the plants in the widow boxes. Sir Willet was
fond of morning glories. It helped that his windows faced east.

The wizard spent the better part of every afternoon testing and teaching
his new student. As the former coach-boy quickly realized, for student
wizards training meant individual tutoring, study of texts and manuals, and
practical exercises rather than lectures. In the Institute library Liam
pored over after action reports of situations where weather and water magic
had been invoked. Each report ended with a section called "Lessons
Learned."

Learning magic was the strangest sort of schooling Liam had ever known. In
teaching magic, Liam's mentor often hinted at things or spoke elliptically,
rather than stating something straight out, expecting the student to fill
in the blanks in a flash of insight. Magic engaged the intellect and the
emotions, but it also drew upon one's psychic connection to the energy
field underlying the physical world of everyday life.

One memorable lesson from Sir Willet had him telling Liam:

"Use your inner eye, Liam. Perceive without looking. Feel without
touching. Hear without listening. Grasp the physical world around you as a
whole not as a jumble of sense impressions. Reach out with and for your
magic. Touch the source of all magic with your mind. Let your thoughts and
your feelings resonate with the emanations from the mighty transmitter the
ancients buried deep in the planet's crust. Only then can you tap the
underlying energy of the universe, which is what powers magic on Haven."

Liam didn't study just magic. Natural history was part of the curriculum
especially geology, mineralogy, and meteorology, plus more theoretical
subjects like mechanics and dynamics, forces and fields, theoretical
alchemy but without the smelly lab work. Astronomy taught Liam what the
lights in the night sky really were.

Under Sir Willet's guidance Liam's powers manifested slowly but
steadily. He had nothing of earth magic, and it was soon evident that he
would never be a firecaster either. He could not even light a candle. On
the other hand, blowing candles out with a magical puff of air was easy, a
sign that he would be a powerful weather wizard.

Not all weather wizards worked as war wizards. Without the versatile gift
of the war wizard, they specialized in weather sensing and working. Weather
wizards provided uncannily accurate predictions for the weather in their
areas out to five or ten days. Many were on the staffs of local
news-papers. Some made longer range predictions, say the weather for a
whole season. Better than guesswork, but not really reliable.

Those natural philosophers who studied meteorology were envious of the
abilities of weather wizards. All they had were instrument readings taken
only at ground level and only in a hundred fifty spots around the territory
of the Commonwealth. But temperature, humidity, and air pressure vary with
altitude and weather systems generally travel from the west, beyond the
network of weather stations. Weather wizards could actually sense weather
fronts and air masses, winds and precipitation. And control them too.

After three months of steady progress, Sir Willet questioned Liam about
weather wizardry:

"What do you think is the most important consideration in working with the
weather?"

"Er, don't bite off more than you can chew?"

Sir Willet nodded.

"That is good part of what I am getting at, Liam. As you know, the power of
planetary weather systems is immense. Don't try to do too much, or the
weather will slip out of your control. The real danger is what happens
after a weather working is finished, even if things turned out as you
intended. For all their power, weather systems are in unstable
equilibrium. A minor change can produce major effects, which is why we can
work weather magic at all. But a careless feat of weather magic could lead
to a major disaster like a flood or a super storm. That is why we never try
to fix really big problems like a widespread drought. The aftershocks and
repercussions could go on for years or even decades."

"So when you invoke your gift, exercise restraint. IF you have to, call up
that tornado or hail storm and hurl it at your enemies, but let it grow
only as strong as you need it, then disperse it and keep a weather eye out,
you should pardon the expression, for repercussions. A hard rain will
neutralize a force of archers by rendering their bowstrings wet and slack,
and you don't have to kill anyone either. Remember, yours foes will mostly
be ordinary people, young men induced by promises, the spirit of adventure,
or inducted by force into the army that opposes you. Don't destroy them if
you don't have to."

"The key is subtlety and what the military calls economy of force. Why
blast a battle line with lightning bolts from a thunderstorm when you can
just call up a windstorm to blow sand in their faces, while our own cavalry
takes them in the flank. Faced with all that, they are likely to surrender,
eventually to return to their families. Never forget the humanity of your
foes, centaurs, barbarians, orcs, and trolls excepted. Though I say
humanity I cannot imagine us ever in a war with the elves, dwarves, or
Frost Giants."

"Calling a wind to propel a vessel is safe as long as you listen to your
sailing master who will keep you from capsizing the ship or running it
aground. Calling up a giant storm to sink a fleet would never be wise. Try
a single waterspout to sink or swamp the enemy ships one by one, but don't
get too close yourself. Waterspouts are twitchy things."

"Against a single ship, you might not need weather magic at all. Fling
white fire, but not as a huge blast. That would empty your quiver, so to
speak. Instead create a narrow stream of white fire. Sweep the enemy vessel
from just above the deck to below the waterline, which will cut the keel in
two. With the loss of her structural integrity, the wind, the waves, and
her own weight will tear the ship apart and sink her to the bottom, taking
all hands with her."

"Her?"

"Ships are always spoken of as female."

"Why"

Sir Willet shrugged: "Perhaps because ships are so fickle."

"So is the weather." Liam observed.

"Ah, but we do not personify the weather."

Liam nodded.

"I'll definitely keep that trick with white fire in mind, sir, but what
really astonished me was to learn that besides controlling atmospheric
phenomena a weather wizard can hear the infrasound a storm makes from
hundreds of miles away. That means we can follow weather systems with both
our magical and natural senses."

"Yes, the range of your hearing now includes the low frequencies made by
storms, earthquakes, and even olifants as they communicate with each other
across miles of veldt or forest. Fortunately you can tune all that out when
you want to.

Moreover infrasound will let you communicate with other weather wizards
over great distances. That is useful for coordinating the movement of
converging columns in military operations on land. The Navy is currently
testing the concept on the Great Inland Freshwater Sea.

You won't use speech to carry your meaning but coded bursts of low
frequency sound. We weather wizards have devised a code of bursts, a mix of
long and short ones in groups of three that spell out the 42 letters of the
alphabet, the ten numerals, and punctuation as well. It is like our own own
private heliograph system only with infrasound instead of flashes of
light. Remember, anyone with the skill can listen in. In a military
situation, you would have to encipher your coded message."

"My head whirls just thinking about it!"

"Ha, ha. Don't worry. You will soon get the hang of it. Even I, with my
modest gift for weather control, can manage long distance messaging quite
handily. Now our messaging capability is not really a secret, but we don't
talk about it much to outsiders. We are not offering a public messaging
service after all. We saw what happened with the Army. Their heliograph
network was so successful it created a demand for a public system. The
government had to set up the postal heliograph system."

Liam had only a moderately strong telekinetic or Fetching power. Strong
Fetchers like his friend Drew Altair, could lift a brontothere into the
sky. A horse was more like Liam's limit. From what Drew had told him Liam
already knew something about using the gift they shared in combat. Drew had
told him that when he fought armies of carnivorous centaurs he flung glass
globes filled with an inflammable oil at them then watched as his friend
the firecaster Taitos Klarendes ignited the oil setting the creatures
ablaze.

When fighting alone Drew's standard tactic was to fling a pair of small
steel spheres back and forth at very high speed using their momentum to
smash through the bodies and heads of the centaurs, using his trademark
'shadow boxing' technique to keep the spheres under his mental
control. Many fetchers had borrowed the technique after he wrote about it
in his newsletter.

"I once asked Drew what he could do against a centaur or slash bear if he
were caught empty handed without his spheres. He grinned evilly and told me
he would just yank its eyes out. Is that gross or what?"

Sir Willet nodded.

"Gruesome, yes, but also effective. Mortal combat is not for the
squeamish."

The former coach-boy was good at holding a so-called missile shield, which
gave war wizards the ability to protect themselves from archers and
slingers. When exercising the fetching power war wizards were always aware
of the position of objects under his control, regardless of whether they
could see them. The Missile Shield was an omnidirectional mental sphere of
awareness of all objects around and especially moving toward them. Now the
shield itself did nothing to stop arrows, quarrels, or slung stones. That
took conscious use of the Fetching gift to deflect incoming missiles or
even return them to sender.

"One thing Drew Altair could not explain to you Liam was the advantage of
faster reflexes and reaction time. Drew never used the Missile Shield
before the magic of the druids doubled the speed of his reflexes. You will
see that even with your current ordinary reflexes, the shield is hard to
penetrate. After the druids change you, your faster reflexes make the
shield virtually impenetrable. Of course if the enemy catches you without
your shield up or when you are asleep, then it is all over."

"Sir I don't understand. My fetching power is fairly limited yet I can call
up a tornado or water spout. which are so much more powerful."

"The difference is that with Fetching you are supplying all the power. With
weather you take advantage of their unstable equilibrium and just nudge
cold and warm fronts and polar air masses and such to swerve this way or
that and do your bidding."

Anyone with the gift of wizardry could acquire the ability to fling white
fire. It was a learned skill rather than an inborn magical gift like true
firecasting. Nevertheless firecasters were better at it for what the
wizards believed were purely psychological reasons. Firecasters could fling
clinging balls of fire again and again, keeping it up for hours. With white
fire you got two or three shots and then that was it for the day. Maybe for
a couple of days. Of all the wizards only Sir Janus could persist in
flinging white fire. No one knew why. Only the firecaster Count Taitos
Klarendes could match him that way.

White fire was a destructive force completely different from casting
streams of fire or clinging balls of flame. White fire does not involve
combustion at all. It is what moderns would call a stream of super-hot
subatomic particles like the plasma at the heart of a sun. It disintegrates
rather than burns. Nothing can withstand it.

For someone like Liam with only a moderate mastery of this learned skill,
white fire was best reserved for single attacks like sinking a ship as Sir
Willet had described or for self-defense, a last resort to cut his way into
the clear to escape his foes. Or for a final strike, taking your enemies
with you, literally going out in a blaze of glory.

Willet always stressed that war wizards were not expected to win battles by
themselves. They were force multipliers for the infantry, cavalry, archers,
and slingers. Their secondary role was to counter the magical attacks of
the enemy. One of the reasons the Commonwealth was assigning three-man and
soon five-man teams of magic wielders to its seven field armies was to be
able to use magic to defend and counter-attack at the same time.

Liam's other major power was that of Concealment. He could not really make
himself invisible but he could cloud the perceptions of others to make them
take no notice of him or those with him. Sir Willet was very good at
concealment and acknowledged as the very best of the wizards. Willet could
march a company of soldiers past a crowd with no one the wiser or conceal
an entire battalion hunkered down in the grass as an army marched past. He
simply projected a feeling that there was nothing in that field but
switchgrass, goldenrod and timothy. In other words: 'No one's here but us
weeds'.

Concealment was subtle, even tricky. You had to make onlookers ignore all
signs of the wizard and those with him. That meant not only their bodies,
clothing, and equipment, but also shadows, footprints or mashed down grass,
as well as sounds like footsteps, the crunch of feet on sand, the rattle of
equipment, and so forth. It took concentration to address each and every
likely clue to one's presence.

One mistake and the illusion slipped away from the minds of those you were
trying to fool and there you stood, suddenly revealed at the worst possible
moment. Unfortunately concealment could not make watchers tune out
voices. That was why concealment of a body of men should only be tried with
troops trained to keep their mouths shut.

Training for concealment often took all three of them out to the field,
Axel included. For Liam's final test Liam would have to sneak up on both of
them and snatch a small flag stuck in the ground. The flag was planted on a
mound with a swamp on one side, a slow shallow river on another, and
mudflats on the third side. Liam could choose any approach he cared to
try. His green silks would provide natural camouflage,

Now Liam reasoned that with the swamp grass blowing in the wind, he would
not have to worry about giving himself away by its movements or any
swishing noises he might make as he threaded his way toward the mound. If
he stepped slowly he could avoid tell-tale splashing. Also the strong smell
of the swamp would conceal his own body odor. Who knew what olfactory
abilities a war wizard could draw upon to detect his approach? It would be
just like his mentor to have some trick like that in reserve.

The mudflats looked bad. They were too open, and his footsteps would
stretch back the whole way, likely too far and too many of them to keep
concealed. And his shadow would be really noticeable under the blazing
sun. Then there was the sucking sound his feet would make as he got
closer. The river looked good. It tempted him at first, but thinking about
it for a while he realized the river approach was too open and much too
obvious. The mud stirred up by his feet as he waded across would surely
spread and slowly drift downstream. No, an approach across the swamp was
the safest bet.

Liam was quite proud of himself for the way he crossed the swamp without
giving himself away. He glided silently through the swamp grass and rushes
and stepped carefully ignoring the squishy feel of the muddy bottom for he
went barefoot the better to feel out the bottom. No sense relying just on
magic to suppress the noise of his passage, not when the watchers were
expecting him and they knew all about Concealment.

In the end Liam had just stepped onto the mound when Sir Willet observed
casually to his aide.

"They always try the swamp, and the same thing always gives them
away. Hello there, Liam."

With a thought the wizard raised a globe of water from the river and
dropped it onto his hapless student, drenching him instantly.

Poor Liam! He looked so woebegone and bedraggled, like a kitten caught in a
deluge.

Sir Willet and Axel burst out laughing. Seeing that the joke was on him,
Liam joined in.

"All right sir, what gave me away?"

"Midges."

"And gnats" Axel added helpfully.

"And mites as well," Willet finished.

"Look!"

Liam looked out over the swamp to where Sir Willet had pointed and for the
first time took real notice of the insect life. Tiny fliers were
everywhere. He could even hear the faint hum they made. He had ignored them
during his approach since there were no biting or stinging insects anywhere
on Haven, none that would bother humans or elves or giants anyway.

"They were everywhere, weren't they Liam? Everywhere except where YOU
were. Since they could not fly into the volume of space occupied by your
body, you unknowingly created a void in the swarm of tiny creatures. A void
which was painfully obvious to anyone watching for it."

"It was like there was a ghost out there in the swamp." Axel chortled. "It
was all we could do not to look straight toward you and burst out
laughing."

"So I failed the test." Liam said, shaking his head ruefully.

"Not at all," Sir Willet assured him.

"No one has ever figured out about the bugs. I certainly didn't in my
day. No, this is not so much as test as a final lesson and a reminder of
what can happen if you get overconfident. If it is a test of anything it is
a test of character. Only someone who does not laugh at the outcome really
fails the test. We don't want surly war wizards in our ranks. Too much
power in the wrong hands, you understand."

Then he added:

"This calls for a celebration. As a journeyman wizard your stipend will
double so the drinks are on you."

"You'll be making as much as I do now," Axel enthused.

Sir Willet continued:

"Now it so happens that one of my favorite watering holes is not far from
the institute. What do you say, shall we repair there for a round or two of
good cheer?"

"You're on, Sir Willet."

It had not been all work and no play till then. Axel and Liam quickly
became regular visitors to Twinkle Town. Named for the cute twinks who were
its chief denizens, Twinkle Town was a district or rather a cluster of
drinking and dancing establishments favored by those who fancied pretty
boys and by pretty boys who favored being fancied.

They made a good looking couple on the dance floor. Liam was of medium
height bronzed and slender with a strong upper storey. Axel was more than a
hand shorter, slightly built, and boyishly cute, with fair skin and hair
the color of copper. Which was fine with Liam who had a thing for
red-heads.

Boldly challenging his dance partner to step out onto the dance floor in
the nude, Liam paired with Axel in an energetic pas de deux, leading his
partner through an erotically charged routine that could only be described
as foreplay. At the finish of their number the dancers' slender athletic
physiques gleamed with perspiration as they breathed hard, looking like
lovers who had just climaxed in sexual congress. Liam drew Axel into a
clinch, pressing their bodies together. As he kissed him long and hard the
inevitable physical reaction occurred.

Someone yelled: "Get a room!".

So they did. That was when, after a couple of months of getting to know one
another at work and on dates, they started spending their nights at each
other's place.

Now for the most part, Liam was a conventional lover. Raised among the
nomads on the Western Plains he was not particularly inventive in his
approach to the amorous arts. Except in one respect: his fetching powers.

Now every generation of teenagers thinks it is the one which invented sex,
but in this case Liam could fairly claim originality in his own use of
fetching in lovemaking. Though he later learned he was far from the first
fetcher to do so, Liam was inventive enough to come up with his techniques
on his own. You had to give him that much.

Axel was the first boy Liam had made love to since coming into his powers
so it was only natural that Axel served as budding wizard's experimental
subject. Admittedly Axel did not exactly volunteer for the honor. But then
when your lover Lifts you off the bed and holds you out of reach of the
floor and all furniture there is not much you can do except yelp and flail
your limbs helplessly as he turns and twists your body into all sorts of
naughty positions.

For their debut Liam decided to mount Axel from behind, with the boy
suspended in mid-air in front of him. Liam didn't even have to thrust his
hips to sink his cock into Axel's gaping hole. He just pulled and pushed
the levitated body of his young lover back and forth till he erupted into
the slick moist hole.

At that point Liam almost dropped Axel, losing his concentration as his
orgasm shook him and then left him weak in the knees. Axel reflexively put
out his hands to catch himself on the floor as Liam held on to his torso
then regained enough control to levitate him again.  He flipped Axel onto
his back and brought him to orgasm orally. Then he set Axel safely and
gently back on the bed.

Once Axel got over his fear of being dropped, he found that making love
with a fetcher can be a whole lot of fun. There were all sorts of
possibilities, hitherto unthought of.

Now whenever Axel got his turn to top, their joining were much more
conventional. Axel may not have been so inventive as his lover, but he made
up for it in enthusiasm. After one particularly athletic and exciting bout
of lovemaking, Liam remarked.

"You are certainly living up to your surname, Axel Wilde, for you are a
real wildcat in bed!"

"Growl!"

When they started showing up to work together Sir Willet deduced a
perfectly correct conclusion. The hickey on Axel throat was all the
confirmation he needed that his protege and his aide were boyfriends.

Sir Willet had developed an avuncular interest in the two youngsters who
worked for them. When he saw them together, so obviously a pair of lovers,
he smiled indulgently. They were so young, this was their time. And they
made such a cute couple. Anyone could see that they were smitten with each
other.

Five months later, not long after Liam got promoted from intern to
journeyman wizard, Drew and the twins returned from their mission to the
Far West.

At first Axel felt like a fifth wheel. The twins were rich and famous, and
anyway they had each other, didn't they? Drew had a prior claim on Liam's
affections. And he was a powerful magic wielder to boot, just like
Liam. What was there then for Axel, lowly wizard's aide that he was?

Much to his delight, the twins and Drew went out of their way to include
both Axel and Liam in their circle. Drew reassured Axel telling him: "We
little guys need to stick together". Then with a fist raised for emphasis
Drew jokingly added "It's us against the world!"

In no time at all, Axel felt like he was one of the gang. He had never felt
so welcomed in his life. With Sir Willet he had found his vocation. With
these boys, he had found a circle of friends.

Life was good.

In the fullness of time, the three of them: Drew, Liam, and Axel moved in
together, taking a suite just down the hall from the twins. Each boy had
his own bed chamber. Sometimes they all slept in one bed. Sometimes they
paired off. And sometimes, one of them, especially Drew, ever the social
butterfly, brought someone else back with him from Twinkle Town.

		Chapter 3. Healing Magic

More than a year after his arrival in the capital, Liam met the elf-boy cum
druid Dahlderon who normally lived with his lovers and fellow druids
Meirionnydd and Owain in the stronghold of the druids in the Great Southern
Forest. Like all young elves Dahl, as he was known for short, had little
use for clothing. For him even semi-formal dress was a sarong or a
breechclout, when he wasn't entirely nude or skin-clad like the twins.

On more formal occasions, like the current one, Dahl donned formal robes of
office, a tunic woven of silk colored the green of the forest that reached
nearly to the knees. Sandals and a voluminous silk cloak with a hood
completed his ensemble. The cloak was infused with druidic magic and could
shift colors and patterns for camouflage in the field. The camouflage made
him very hard to see against any background as long as he held still. It
wasn't as good as Concealment, but it worked well enough.

With the help of a bit of weather magic and a light breeze called up for
that purpose, Dahl could make the cloak billow out from his body like
wings. Just a bit of dramatics to remind his interlocutors that, like his
lover Meirionnydd, a former unicorn, he was one of the most powerful
wielders of magic on the planet.

Such dramatics helped Dahl overcome the impression he gave with his youth,
his slight build and his impossibly comely features. Dahl stood only a
finger over five feet and had a lithe or even gracile physique. With
fine-boned features, subtly pointed ears, chiseled jawline, and killer
cheekbones which shielded lovely green eyes, his was the sort of youthful
male beauty that could take your breath away.

Dahlderon introduced his colleagues, a pair of lady Healers whom he
addressed as "Sisters" though they had no blood ties among them. They wore
the traditional healer's robes of yellow silk. One was a blonde and the
other a brunette. Both were very pretty, as all lady Healers were. Pleasing
features were a sign of good health. If anyone on Haven would be blessed
with good health it was its Healers.

They asked the young wizard to disrobe and recline on a couch. Dahl told
Liam what to expect. First would come what would feel like a thousand
needles sticking into every part of his body followed by alternating
sensations of heat and cold. To keep him still the Healers would inhibit
his ability to move his limbs. He would not feel numb, for this was not
true paralysis. He would be able to move his head and breathe normally.

Dahl stood in the middle at Liam's waist while the sisters stationed
themselves at Liam's head and feet. All three ran their fingers lightly
over his body, touching him everywhere, stroking his limbs and kneading his
muscles, which helped them become psychically aware of Liam inside and
out. Liam gulped as Dahl's hands touched his manly parts, manipulating them
as if in foreplay. Liam tried to control himself, but it was no
use. Stimulated by the elf-boy's beauty, sex-appeal, closeness, and
caresses, Liam stiffened. Then blushed furiously.

The sisters laughed lightly, remarking that everything seemed to be in
working order. Poor Liam squeezed his eyes shut, utterly mortified. It
didn't help knowing that all his friends and his mentor were watching the
proceedings.

Next Liam felt a different hand at work on his manly parts. Oh no! It was
one of the sisters manipulating him like a pro, but then she was, wasn't
she, maybe not that kind but even more knowledgeable about the human
body. But surely there was nothing medical about the way she thumbed the
head of his cock and pumped and rubbed his shaft. And why didn't he just
shrivel up with embarrassment at being manipulated by a female? Instead his
arousal continued and even strengthened.

Liam tried to cover himself with his hands, but his limbs would not obey
him. He lay there helpless, a mere plaything of the Healers, unable to even
than verbally protest their toying with him for one of the sisters had
touched his throat, silencing him. The sisters manipulated his genitalia
and even probed his bum with a finger to stroke his joy knot, boldly
exploring the mysteries rightfully belonging to Liam's fellow males. Was
there no limit to the indignities these females would inflict on a helpless
nude boy?

"My, oh my. He's so big. And his manhood throbs so powerfully that it makes
me question this young male's orientation to his own gender. Are you quite
sure you are not attracted to females, young Liam?"

Liam couldn't speak and he did know whether to nod or shake his head. His
instinct was to shake his head at the very notion of any attraction to
females, but the sister might take it a literal answer to her question,
that he Liam was NOT sure he was not attracted to females.

Dahl had let them tease Liam since his arousal helped the Healers engage
his generative powers in the transformative process. Still the sisters had
laid it on rather thick.

"Tsk tsk sister," Dahl said in mild reproof, "the way you are manipulating
him both physically and magically, how can the boy not be aroused? Now that
you have had your little joke, can we get on with this please?"

"Very well, but it does seem a shame that the weepings of his spheres are
not used to engender new life."

"I disagree. It is obvious that young Liam here is not cut out for
fatherhood. He could never do a proper job of raising a child, however well
equipped he is for creating one."

"Besides there is no shortage of volunteers ready to provide their weepings
for that purpose." Dahl opined blandly.

Linking hands, the trio invoked their powers generating a pearly effulgence
which then engulfed the boy as they directed their magic toward him. The
glow of their healing magic pulsed from pearly white to light green and
back again several times. After it faded the trio nodded with
satisfaction. All had gone well.

As for the subject of their ministrations, Liam found he could move again
and asked:

"Did it work? I really don't feel any different, you know."

Dahl shook his head and smiled.

"That is the whole point my young friend. You are not supposed to feel any
different, not today not tomorrow, not next year, not decades and centuries
from now. Though you will find that your magically enhanced vitality will
gradually improve your reflexes, double your strength and stamina, increase
your resistance to disease, speed healing, and stimulate your sexual
potency, as if you really needed any help on that score, from what Drew has
told me."

From that day on Liam would stay just as he was then, a supremely good
looking, healthy, and desirable eighteen year old. The changes to his
constitution suppressed the growth of all body hair and transformed those
sweat glands which secreted oils which could turn rancid into ordinary
sweat glands that produced only salty water. That meant no more body odor.

Liam's friends gathered around to congratulate him and to kid him about how
the sisters had teased him. Liam suspected he would be hearing jokes about
his spheres and their weepings for quite some time to come.

Now though it was virtually a tradition that those newly transformed wound
up in bed with Dahl, at least those subjects who liked boys, that did not
happen with Liam. Instead the two of them became platonic friends. They had
a few days extra to bond since Dahl had to postpone his departure to deal
with the wizards on another matter entirely.

In their conversations Dahl recalled his early adventures when crossing the
Western Plains. Not only had he fought the black riders, he had faced his
own mortality at a time when he was almost entirely without magic. The only
gift he could call on back then was the traditional Green Thumb of the
elves.

On that fateful day Dahl had been caught out in a terrific storm. Thunder
crashed while lightning blasted the turf all around him. Hail stones
threatened to flay the elf-boy alive while icy rain chilled him till he
nearly blacked out.

Liam's memories of life on the plains were more pleasant ones, though he
too had frequently witnessed nature's fury: thunderstorms, windstorms,
tornados, wildfires. Out on the plains there were no buildings or caves, no
places to take shelter in. Based on their shared experiences and on the
warmth of the friends they had in common, the two of them, druid and war
wizard, became friends themselves.

			Chapter 4. The Duel

The alliance between the druids and the war wizards of the Commonwealth of
the Long River was strong. It went back centuries. That was why the druids
had agreed to extend the lives of the Commonwealth's wizards, most of whom
were short-lived humans who could otherwise expect to live no more than
their proverbial five score and ten.

Unfortunately there was one war wizard named Sir Janus whom the Druids and
Healers refused to enhance. What made matters worse was that they wouldn't
even say why, not straight out. Janus cried foul. He demanded an
explanation or better still, the same healing magic that all his colleagues
had already received, even a youngster and johnny-come-lately like Willet's
protege Liam. After all, wasn't he regarded as the most powerful wizard of
all?

Matters came to a head at a conclave called by the Senior Wizard, Sir
Dieter. The post was largely ceremonial and administrative since the
Institute of Wizardry was not so much a functional organization as a
fraternal one. A representative of the Council of the Commonwealth attended
along with a score of wizards, those stationed in and around the capital,
Janus among them.

He was a snob and an arrogant sort and not at all popular with his
colleagues, but they did back his demand for an explanation. He deserved
that much, regardless of how little you liked the man. Besides, the wizards
would someday need his raw power on the battlefield.

Dahlderon insisted that their decision would stand. It had been agreed from
the start that though the Commonwealth could nominate candidates, the
druids had sole discretion in accepting them. And that was that. As to
their reasons, Dahlderon would only say:

"We have looked into this man's heart with our empathic gift. Sir Janus
reeks of evil. That is why we will not entrust him with an extended
lifespan. Nor should you have ever trusted this man with the powers of a
war wizard."

Even Sir Willet who had heartily disliked Janus practically from the day
they had met was taken aback by this rebuff to his order. As were all the
other wizards. Druids had no business telling wizards whom they should
allow into the order.

The representative of the Ruling Council tried to smooth things over. The
last thing the Commonwealth needed was discord between the two orders of
mages.

Dahl shook his head then said:

"Though we know nothing of this man's actual misdeeds, we suspect they are
legion and we recommend a thorough investigation of his past activities."

That made Janus explode:

"How dare you!. You assassinate my character, charge me with so-called
misdeeds which you admit you know nothing of, and declare me unworthy of my
wizardly powers. And you withhold your healing magic which you shared
freely with all of my colleagues. I must be satisfied with mere decades of
life but the others will have live on for centuries?"

Janus saw the chance for an extended life slipping away. Even worse, the
threat of an investigation could could cost him his very, for he would
surely face execution for his crimes if the police found out what he had
been up to.

"No! I will not accept your rejection nor your baseless charges. None of
it. I am much the strongest of the wizards. I don't need permission from
anyone to wield my powers, certainly not from the likes of you. Understand
me, plant boy? And I will tolerate no investigation into my so-called
misdeeds. You druids are too full of yourselves."

"You won't get away with this. If you condemn me to an early death, I will
pay you back in kind. I call on you to give an inviolable pledge to comply
with my demands. Otherwise you will suffer the consequences."

"What would those consequences be, Sir Janus. Speak plainly." Dahl
demanded.

I"n plain speech if you three won't comply with my wishes today then I will
destroy you where you stand. Then let the druids and the sisters send
another trio who will give me what I what."

The wizards were aghast. Janus was threatening to make war on the druids
and the healers. Surely the man was mad for no single wizard, not even one
as powerful as he, could challenge the power of the druids and the
healers. Janus instantly lost all support among his fellow wizards.

Dahlderon shook his head. His eyes flashed as he said with contempt:

"Foolish mortal drunk with power!"

"Your threats alone demonstrate how unfit you are for your high estate. Did
you really think you could threaten magic wielders who could end your life
with a thought? Either of these senior Healers could stop your heart before
you could blink an eye. For my part, as a combat veteran, I tend to be more
bloody minded. So I find myself tempted to inflict a lingering death by
transmuting the contents of your stomach into a poison which would torment
you for days until you welcomed oblivion."

As the literary saying puts it, Janus 'waxed mightily in his wroth'. In
plain language he lost it.

"You arrogant whelp! How dare you threaten me with death, me the mightiest
war wizard of the Commonwealth."

With that Janus unleashed a blast of white fire at the magical trio,
confident that no shield, no substance could stop it. Unfazed the druid
threw up a shield made not of a material substance but a space portal which
ported the blast to the top of the atmosphere to disperse harmlessly.

Sir Janus was flabbergasted by the failure of his attack. He stood
bewildered as Dahl intoned.

"Sir Janus, you condemn yourself by your own actions. As a senior member of
the Order of the Druids of Haven I invoke my concurrent plenipotentiary
authority around the globe as a Dispenser of the High Justice."

"Die!"

With that single word, or just the thought really, the man's bones crumbled
to powder within his skin. His dying body slumped to the floor, an
unreadable expression on Janus' distorted features as he realized death had
claimed him. All that was left was a lump of flesh and bodily fluids,
almost unrecognizable as anything human.

"I apologize for the mess but not for what I just did. I hope you
understand the action I had to take. The man brought his death upon
himself."

The wizards murmured their assent. For many, Janus's actions amounted to
suspicions confirmed. The man's career had been dogged by rumors of
'misdeeds' for years, from financial peculation to sexual abuse to several
mysterious disappearances, though no charges were ever laid to him. Janus
had been one of the wizards Axel had warned Liam about when Sir Willet took
him on as his student. Janus had also been the one intern among those
currently serving who had not laughed at himself when he failed the test at
the swamp. Instead, he had accused his mentor of setting him up to fail.

The wizards had made a mistake with that one, and now they knew it.

The representative of the Council pointed out that not only Dahl had acted
in self-defense, as a druid he had complete legal authority, concurrent
with that of all governments on Haven to dispense summary justice. His
plenipotentiary authority meant that his decisions were not subject to
review. [High Justice was a legal term meaning either long prison terms or
capital punishment.]

Some governments did not particularly care for what they regarded as an
infringement on their sovereignty by the druids, but no one dared to cross
them. Anyway this was one privilege the druids exercised rarely and with
restraint and discretion, sometimes dealing out justice in secret. Druids
were past masters at arranging 'accidents' and 'unfortunate illnesses' for
those who were too rich and too powerful for the local authorities to
touch.

The Dread Hands of the Commonwealth operated much the same way, rather than
openly exercise their own plenipotentiary authority. War wizards had no
such authority. They operated entirely within the military chain of
command.

Even those who had known Dahlderon for years looked at him with new respect
and even a little fear. He might look like a teen age boy-toy, but at the
moment of high drama he had taken on the fearsome aspect of an angel of
death.

Sir Willet disposed of Janus' remains with a sheet of white fire which
consumed the grisly mass, leaving a scar in the floor where the intense
energy ate into the stone. It would be a permanent reminder of what had
happened.

Liam and Axel were stunned by what they had just witnessed. But then they
were so very young. With his greater life experience Sir Willet recovered
his aplomb much sooner.

"Ah, Lord Dahlderon, may I have a word with you in private?"

As the pair stepped into an alcove, the druid said:

"If you intend to ask me how I created a space portal, that is something I
cannot share just yet.  I am still working on the technique. I can assure
you that when I perfect it, I will share it with my colleagues in both
magical orders, yours as well as my own."

"No one has been able to open a portal since the days of the wizards who
brought the various races to Haven via portals thousands of years ago."

"My grasp of the technique is still not as sure as I would like it. But
against white fire, I had to try it out. It would probably have taken too
long to invoke earth magic to open a pit beneath his feet and swallow him
up. Especially with that stone flooring. Earth flows but stone is stubborn
and only breaks. That takes time and energy."

"Nevertheless you were never in any real danger, were you?"

"No. Not really. I knew that if he attacked he would fling white fire, and
I was prepared for it. With our empathic gift all three of us could sense
when Janus resolved to attack, almost before he realized it himself on a
conscious level. Besides as an elf and a druid my reaction time is so much
shorter than that of a human, especially one who has not been enhanced."

"And we druids have faster reflexes still. I can snatch an arrow out of the
air then use it to bat away a second."

"That is good as far as it goes, but your reflexes would not let you block
a volley of arrows coming from several directions at once. For that you
need something like our Missile Shield."

"Actually we druids have a missile shield of our own, though only against
arrows. Like yours our shield is really a mental field of awareness that
does not actually stop arrows. For that I must invoke my druidic
powers. You see we druids are always aware of the life forms nearby and of
any organic materials like wood or leather. So if archers loosed a dozen
arrows at me all at once, I would turn their shafts into dandelion seeds
which would disperse in a puff and slow to a stop thanks to air
resistance. Without the weight of the shaft and the fletchings the steel
arrowheads would not fly true, and without the momentum of the shaft behind
them the points could do no real harm even if one or two did impact."

"I never knew that. I also hadn't realized that you were an empath."

"I am not a full empath, but all those with the healing gift have a degree
of empathy. Healers are aware of everything going on in the bodies of their
patients including pain and emotions."

"You did provoke Janus, you know, charging him with mis-deeds you knew
nothing about."

"Ah, but I do know now. I caught his thoughts with Mind Speech when I
threatened an investigation. He was suddenly filled with the dread of being
exposed. The authorities should check his ancestral manor house in the
country. The man was a monster, a sadist who abducted, raped, tormented,
and murdered young men and teens. I cannot think of anything more hateful
than destroying young lives for perverse pleasure."

"So you deliberately provoked him, to make him to recall his crimes."

"Exactly."

"Remind me not to get on your enemies list, Lord Dahlderon."

"As I told you the other day when we enhanced your protege Liam, in private
we are Dahl and Will."

"Fine. What's next, Dahl?"

"Damage control. We need to call in your protege to help."

"What can Liam do?" Sir Willet asked, perplexed.

"Not him. Drew Altair."

"I see. The Capital Intelligencer gets the scoop, and, in return, plays the
story the way we like it."

"Not at all. We can count on Drew to be fair. Let him tell the truth as it
happened, and we will all come out of this better than if we tried to
manipulate the reporting. He already knows many of the principals and the
witnesses; you, me, Liam, your aide Axel, and the sisters. That gives him
credibility."

		Chapter 5. Perception is Everything

Early one morning some months later Drew, Liam, and Axel were sprawled out
on the bed in Liam's chamber. No one was in any hurry to get up. It felt
good just lying there in the relative cool of the morning, lazing about,
rubbing the leg of your lover with your foot but not taking things any
further than that.

Like the twins' own suite, their rooms were on the top floor of a three
storey residential hotel and looked out over a leafy square in the
capital. The builders had taken advantage of the flat terrain of the city
and the prevailing south wind to cool the building. Wind catchers directed
the airflow downward and through the city's underground aqueducts where the
warm air gave up its heat to the cool earth and subterranean water. Natural
air pressure then forced the air back up into and through the building. All
done without machinery. Awnings blocked direct sunlight from wide window
openings which were not glassed in but set with wood lattices that afforded
privacy without blocking ventilation.

The hotel was the modern sort. Pumps driven by vertical axis windmills
raised water to a water tower and a set of tanks on the roof. The tower
served the water closets in each suite and provided cold water for taps and
showers in the apartments below. Tanks painted black provided solar-heated
hot water.

"Ah this is the life." Liam declared to no one in particular.

"Nothing like a soft bed, the hard bodies of your lovers lying next to
yours, and all the modern conveniences close to hand: hot and cold running
water, flush toilets, hot meals prepared just the way we like them
downstairs in the restaurant. I think I will start today with pancakes then
order scrambled eggs and ham. And kaffay. I must have my kaffay. I never
knew what I was missing till I left the plains and discovered kaffay."

"Nah," Axel said. "I'll just have some oatmeal."

"Oatmeal? Just oatmeal? When you can have anything you want?" Liam
protested.

"But I like oatmeal." Axel said defensively. "My mother used to serve me
oatmeal. Nothing like it with a little honey on top."

Drew smiled at the byplay. Idle chitchat was also part of a lazy
morning. And why not? They had the day off. If it weren't for the rumbling
in their stomachs they could stay in bed till noon. Well, maybe not. The
chamber boy would be wanting to straighten up.

The trio of young lovers eventually did climb out of bed, showered and
primped, wrapped themselves in sarongs, and went down to breakfast. The
twins had preceded them there and were also in sarongs. As always Jemsen's
was green and Karel's blue. Early on they had tried other colors for the
sake of variety but found that their fashion statement confused everybody.

The twins were eating a huge breakfast: scrambled eggs, hash browns, toast
with jam, ham, bacon, and sausage."

"Big day today." Karel explained to Drew's inquisitive look." The
footrace. Remember?"

"Ah yes. The annual ten miler. Are you going after a second trophy?"

"No. We'll fade at the end and let someone overtake us and win the
trophy. I mean, with our enhanced strength, speed, and stamina, it's really
not a challenge. We just like to run out in front most of the way."

"Letting all the spectators ogle your splendid physiques all naked and
gleaming with sweat."

"And why not? When you've got it, flaunt it, I always say." Karel affirmed
with a nod. "Anyway a race is more fun than a training run."

The annual race was held in one of the large parks in the city. A winding
course had been laid out along its footpaths and running trails and marked
with flags and ribbons tied around trees. The thirty runners had to circle
the course five times.

About four thousand spectators were on hand, some seated in the low
bleachers by the athletic field, others scattered on benches along the
course or on handy rock ledges or just seated on the grass. There was even
a contingent of the twins' pals from Twinkle Town, many of them up and
about uncharacteristically early since the race kicked off three hours
before mid-day, before it got really hot.

At the designated time the runners lined up. An official dropped a
flag. They were off.

Each time the twins ran by the bleachers their fans from Twinkle Town
cheered them loudly for they were in the lead with the pack strung out
behind them. The denizens of Twinkle Town cheered the rest of the pack too,
aroused by the sight of all that scrumptious boy flesh rushing past. These
were the best of the young runners in the city, their hard young bodies a
feast for the eyes, virtual poetry in motion.

Palpitations!

As it turned out, the twins were having so much fun basking in the
adulation of the crowd that they forgot themselves and nearly won the race
unintentionally. They were so far ahead that they couldn't simply fade and
let the next runner overtake them. It would look like they had deliberately
thrown the race, which would spoil that runner's victory.

So Karel pretended to injure himself. A bone bruise to the heel was how
Jemsen explained it as he helped his "injured" brother off the course and
sat him down. Spectators clucked sympathetically but then cheered the new
front runner as he flew past.

None were more pleased than the twins themselves when the official
presented the trophy to the winner, a stunning flaxen-haired youth with a
ready smile and flashing blue eyes. He blew a kiss at the twins before his
friends hoisted him onto their shoulders and carried him off to a victory
celebration.

"Quick thinking there Karel." Drew told him later back in their rooms. "You
faked your injury so convincingly that I actually expected you to limp off
the course and visit a Healer."

"Yes, well sometimes what matters is not what is real but what people
perceive."

"Funny you should say that," Axel offered, "Sir Willet often says much the
same thing. He studies how people perceive the world around them. For
instance. Did you know that while some people are color blind all the time,
all of us are color blind in dim light? That is why Concealment is easier
at night. You don't have to worry that the wrong color will give you
away. Anyway Sir Willet collaborates with a natural philosopher to better
understand how we use our senses. All of them, not just the traditional
five."

"We have more than five senses?" Drew asked.

"Of course. Ten at least, maybe a dozen, plus our magical senses. In
addition to sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell, we all have a sense of
balance, don't we? And we can sense when he are hungry or thirsty. That's
two more. We can sense temperature like the radiant heat of a fire or of
the sun for that matter. And we can sense where the different parts of our
bodies are in relation to each other."

"Huh?"

"It's how you can scratch the back your head or wipe your ass without
looking."

"It is also what the town watch tests drunks for. You know, when they ask a
man to extend his arms to the side, close his eyes then touch the tip of
his index finger to his nose. It's that sense."

"Oh."

"Don't forget pain," Jemsen offered.

"Nor how we sense how heavy things are by hefting them." Karel added.

Axel nodded.

"Sir Willet is particularly interested in how our senses can fool us, like
with optical illusions. The story goes that back in the day when he was
only a journeyman himself, Sir Willet's mentor questioned his interest in
perception. What possible use could the study of optical illusion be to an
army in the field?"

Liam delivered the punch line.

"Willet replied that armies used optical illusion all the time, only they
called it camouflage. His mentor laughed and gave him a free hand to study
whatever he wanted to. Thanks to his researches, Sir Willet is the
Institute's authority on Concealment."

Axel picked up the thread:

"Sir Willet is more than a little frustrated that no one has followed up on
his finding that green is not the best color for camouflage. The Army
dismissed his work out of hand. Plants are green, they said, and so is our
camouflage, and that was that."

"If not green then what color would he have the Army use?

"Brown, black, and grey plus tan for grassland and sandy environments."

"Really? Why those colors?"

"Those are the colors that nature herself uses. You have your brown bears
and otters and woodchucks and so many other creatures with brown
coats. Also grey wolves, grey foxes, and grey squirrels, black bears, black
panthers, and stripped and spotted cats and many others. But have you ever
seen an animal with a green coat? Of course not."

"Birds don't count. Their bright plumage is a courtship display." Liam
clarified then shook his head

"Unfortunately, the Army has a problem with 'Not invented here'. If it is
not their own idea, it must not be any good."

They all shook their heads at this sad example of human and organizational
folly.

Axel had a sudden thought.

"Hey! Let me show you something really nifty."

"He went off for a moment and brought back a sheet of paper with block
printing on it. At first glance it looked like gibberish, but then it
didn't. It read:

I CDNUOLT BLVEIEE TAHT I CLUOD AULACLTY UESDNATNRD WAHT I WAS RDANIEG. THE
PHAONMNEAL PWEOR OF THE HMUAN MNID! AOCCDRNIG TO THE LEATST RSCHEEARCH, IT
DEOSN'T MTTAER IN WAHT OREDR THE LTTEERS IN A WROD ARE, THE OLNY IPRMOATNT
TIHNG IS TAHT THE FRIST AND LSAT LTTEER BE IN THE RGHIT PCLAE. THE RSET CAN
BE A TAOTL MSES AND YOU CAN SITLL RAED IT WOUTHIT A PORBELM. TIHS IS
BCUSEAE THE HUAMN MNID DEOS NOT RAED ERVEY LTETER BY ISTLEF, BUT THE WROD
AS A WLOHE. AMZANIG HUH? YAEH, AND HREE I AWLYAS THOUGHT SLPELING WAS
IPMORANTT.

"That is amazing." they all agreed.

Liam nodded then said:

"It is going to be hard to tear myself away from all the interesting stuff
I have been learning. I never thought studying could be so much fun. You
see they have scheduled me for my first deployment next month.  I heard
that we are being sent after raiders on the Great Inland Freshwater Sea."

"Anyway, can you believe I am to serve with the Navy? Me, a boy who has
never seen a body of water wider than the Long River itself."

"You do know how to swim, don't you?" Jemsen asked.

Liam shook his head. "No. I've never gone in over my head."

"Then you better learn to swim. The Great Inland Freshwater Sea is deeper
than that!" Karel joked.

"Since we are already naked," Jemsen said, "let's go to the creek out back
and get started on your lessons."

And that was how Liam learned to swim.

			Author's Note

This story is entirely fictional, with no resemblance intended to any
person living or dead.

If you have enjoyed this story and others like it, consider making a
donation to the Nifty Archive. It is so easy. They take credit cards. Point
your browser to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

This story is one of an occasional series about the further adventures of
the characters introduced in the fantasy novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends' and
published by Nifty Archive. The chief protagonist of the novel, Dahlderon,
elf-boy and druid, will appear in these stories in a supporting rather than
starring role. Each story in the sequence stands on its own, with the focus
on one or just a few of the original characters.

Readers who like these stories might want to try my two series 'Daphne Boy'
and 'Naked Prey' in the Gay/Historical section of the Archive. My 'Jungle
Boy' series of Hollywood tales is posted in the Gay/Authoritarian
section. The recent series 'Andrew Jackson High' relates the trials and
tribulations of five of its gay students. For links to these and other
stories, look on the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive.

Comments and feedback welcome.