Fable - Ask Husbandry of Arcane Beasts

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Open to students of Elbion College. First years attending, older students as course helpers.

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Despite being within the city, Elbion College was vast enough to have a few large courtyards and fields within its borders. Some distance from the main buildings (and a considerable distance from the normal stables) were some barns and small huts. From afar that is all they appeared to be, though upon closer inspection one could see that they were unsettlingly sturdy, many bearing massive iron locks, reinforcements, and a section glowing with a handful of magical wards.

These barns housed magical animals, creatures naturally imbued with the arcane or supernatural abilities. Kikwi spent much of his time out here tending to the educational specimens. Shortly after their construction, when the stalls were being filled, there had been a secret pool as to when the tiny kenku would be eaten by one of his pets. Miraculously this had not occurred.

Kikwi attributed this to them being “very good animals,” but it was likely more so due to his exceptionally good understanding of the creatures’ needs, expressions, and communications. This was something he hoped to teach to all students, for he believed that any beast, be it Snapping Gristlehorn or Slick-Backed Slubberworm, could be tamed. Or as he liked to say: “made a friend.”

Kikwi stood atop a rough-hewn fence post at the edge of a small paddock, facing a group of students. Behind him were three Gristlehorns, bovine-sized beasts of burden with thick, rust-colored skin and large horns sprouting from their noses. The horns ran down the midline of their faces, diminishing in size as they went until they disappeared entirely behind the ears. While the gristlehorn’s skin was hairless, a wirey fur covered these horns (hence the name). Their eyes were small and beady, while their large ears swiveled to and fro. Enormous lips pulled up chunks of grass to be gnashed by large, flat teeth.

“Welcome, class!” Kikwi began in a high voice twice the size of his body. “To another year of learning and excitement!” He inhaled a big (relatively) breath of the outdoor air and exhaled the earthy smells.

“Not all knowledge can be gained from behind a desk, much requires hands-on experience! There are many flora and fauna that hold innate magical or supernatural powers. Knowing how to handle, manage, and understand these beings can bring great benefit to you and your community. For instance -“ he turned and gestured to the gristlehorns, “the snapping gristlehorn can generate tremendous power from its rostral horns, that, when harnessed properly, can power many magical devices. Observe!”

With nary another word Kikwi turned and hopped down from the fence into the paddock. He approached one of the gristlehorns, whose ruby-red eye locked on to the approaching kenku. It kept its head low, but it stopped chewing the grass as it observed.

Kikwi stopped about thirty (human) paces from the nearest beast and produced a purple crystal from deep within his pocketed robes. The gristlehorn slowly raised its head, seeming to recognize the crystal, and Kikwi placed it upright on the ground. He held up a tiny hand, and kept it raised as he slowly backed away from the crystal. Once he was safely away, he lowered his hand and said “Pip!”

At this command, the gristlehorn bowed its head towards the crystal. The fine hair on its horns raised up, made a faint buzzing sound, and a second later a sharp crack of lightning leapt from its largest horn to the crystal, sending a small plume of dust into the air. Kikwi clapped his hands twice, and the beast returned to its lunch.

Kikwi retrieved the crystal and presented it to the class. It was now a bright blue and glowed softly.

“Behold! The gristlehorn’s power contained and ready for use in any number of instruments. Now, everyone take an uncharged crystal and line up by the gate. We will practice approaching the gristlehorns one by one, and if they take to you, you may attempt to charge a crystal. Remember to move slowly and watch their body language. If you see flattened ears, back away!”

He opened the gate for the first student.

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szesh_A_red_rhinoceros_shooting_lightning_from_its_horn._Drawn__17c6418c-9fc3-443a-9c91-85c584...png
Artist’s rendition of a Snapping Gristlehorn, c. 287
Editor’s note: artist deceased following complications of severe electrocution
 
Feä had on her schedule of study for this season a sweeping array of subjects. Introductory courses, short but standard for all who were of the first year, provided the main body of her schedule, yet they were not all. Of her own choosing Feä had enrolled into Martial Pursuit and Magical Application, for such was her signature magic—and such was her innate interest—to augment her fighting ability, not only to cast spells from afar; as well she had enrolled in General Histories, for personal reasons of which she spoke not a whit to anyone.

And there was this class today, taught by the Little Maester Kikwi. Feä cared not if in truth Kikwi was Maester or no, for she deemed him on sight and by his bearing alone to be quite knowledgeable; and though it might be strange to say as much aloud, to fellow students or Stars Forbid to Maester Kikwi himself, Feä found herself enamored of his small stature, his unique race, and his large eyes. Plainly said, she found him to be cute.

But now Feä realized, as she stood in the line with her fellow students, the true subject matter of the course. Feä had not occasioned to encounter the word "husbandry" before, and therefore knew not what half of the course's title meant. She had thought in her error that it would be much like General Histories: a review, in this case, of Arcane Beasts in a classroom setting.

She thought not that they would engage directly with the Arcane Beasts of the course's name. A fool of an elf, she was!

With many thanks, however, the arrangement of the line foisted another student, Padillis, to the honor of first within the paddock. He was a rather heavy-set human young man with curly hair that swept his shoulders as he walked, but he had an infectiously affable nature about him, if but a little awkward here and there, and seemed a good student.

"He's gonna fumble it," whispered a student somewhere behind Feä.

"Got a zoldo on Paddy being lucky," whispered another.

"You really are crazy," said a third.

"A zoldo? A wager's a wager, I'll take it," said the first, and it would seem that the deal was done.

Ill luck did afflict poor Padillis. The young man seemed, at first, to be according himself well, but then the gristlehorn sneezed, and this in its turn frightened Padillis, and he made a few unwise motions, which then incensed the gristlehorn, and its ears flattened, and Padillis had to scamper away as Kikwi had instructed, and he came tumbling out of the paddock, having vaulted over it in desperation, and landed on his posterior outside. A few laughs and giggles made for a chorus in the line, but "Paddy" himself took his own folly in good spirit, smiling with big rosy cheeks and sharing in the laughter himself.

Feä glanced to a fellow student in line, and she remarked with a tinge of humor in keeping with the rest of the class, "Mayhap ill luck has departed, satisfied thus with Paddy's woe. He has done us all a service."

Kikwi
 
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Pomrick blinked at Fea's quip. Had she addressed him? No one ever addressed him.

One second. Two seconds. Awkwardness swelled and bloomed between him and the young-looking elf before him, his mouth quivering in an attempted (and abysmal) smile. Quick, Pomrick, think of something witty to say!

"Uh, indeed. What a - uh - what a clumsy idiot."

A hush fell over the queue, even from the gigglers before. Someone sputtered in a new cackle, this time at Pomrick, whose attempt at partaking in the mocking fun had badly backfired. His shoulders hunched a little, and he tried to speak in a lower voice, so only Fea would hear:

"I hear gods of ill luck can be real, eh, fickle and all that. So who knows. Maybe this is just a warm up, you know."

Why did he have the feeling he was prophecising his own, doomed attempt already?
 
This year there were more lectures than ever. Or perhaps it was more that Nilamani found themself want to attend more and more classes. Though no matter what was competing in the timeslot Nilamani would have chosen this class. They like many had been at first amused by the unusual sight of the feathered Maester. Though the more time they spent watching the maester lecture, the more they understood why the beasts listened to little Kikwi. The little bird was quickly becoming Nilamani's favorite maester.
Our perhaps that was unsurprising given that Nilamani themself might be considered an arcane beast by some.
As with all classes Nilamani had donned a two legged form to attend. No point in drawing attention or distracting any of the new students.

Nilamani stood towards the edge of the crowd. Hanging back and watching on with interest. This class was an opportunity to see many a creature that Nilamani had never heard of. They gathered from some of the students reactions they weren't alone in that.
Another student tumbled in a spectacle out of paddock. The tumble made a comical thump in the dirt.
This was already thrice as amusing as lectures.
Nilamani overheard two students discussing trickster gods and whims of fate.
Feä Mindalië 's words were poetic but seemed a bit dramatic. Surely gods had better things to do then watch a bit of practical lessons. In any case Nilamani had quite high faith that the maester wouldn't sit idly by and watch a student be maimed.
Though they admitted it had been an amusingly unfortunate enough sight without any gore. Another student who looked just as unfortunate in their own way, turned to whisper to the Elf. Something about hoping that the next student would have better luck. As if in another ill-omen Nilamani did hear this despite the Pomrick Bloomsfield 's efforts. Nerevyn of their kind had quiet good hearing.

"Perhaps you should test how fickle they are? " Nilamani gestured to the paddock with a bemused chuckle.
"Surely you wouldn't have boldly declared a fellow student a 'clumsy idiot' without being prepared to show us how it's done?" They added with a calm confident smile.
 
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Pomrick blinked - one eye twitching before the other, bearing to mind the look of a glazed frog.

Oh, no. This had really backfired. He was getting more attention. From one otherworldly graceful student to another, deep pools of gold observing him coolly. If he mucked this up, he wouldn't hear the end of it. He'd be mocked for weeks - maybe even months.

Pomrick bit his teeth together, preparing himself, shuffling in line as another student entered and managed to gain a weak spark from a Gristlehorn, wooping and jumping in success. Their success only caused his heart to thump harder against his ribs.

"N-no. Of course not."

Without him noticing, he was clutching his own tunic in worried anticipation. He couldn't back out of his own words now, much as he would want to. He would have to play things by ear and hope for the best.

"Piece of - piece of cake." He closed his eyes, mouth moving before speaking, reluctant to double-down, but feeling obliged to do so regardless. "Easy as lighting a candle."

He hoped by saying so, he could manifest the truth of those words. But part of him doubted it.
 
Kikwi stood by in the paddock as Padillis tried, and failed, to complete the charging task. Nevertheless, Kikwi’s eyes were bright as he commented on the exercise.

“Well done noting the flattened ears, chum! A timely retreat leaves you ready to try again later. It is a rare thing to succeed on one’s first try, chin up!”

There was the usual tittering amongst the students that followed such a display, and Kikwi’s sensitive ears picked up each word, no matter how much he wished to respect the students’ privacy. From this, he heard an eager participant! Or rather, the words were eager. Kikwi was still mastering an understanding of tone and intent, and the nervous warble in Pomrick’s voice was mistaken for excitement.

“Ah, a volunteer! Excellent! Take a crystal and slowly approach the gristlehorn. Mind that you step evenly and securely, as outlined in Dangleborn’s chapter. This one is now extra alert, but that will make the charge stronger. On your way!”

The gristlehorn was indeed alert. ‘Agitated’ may have been a more apt description, for it did not dip its head back to the meager grass it had been chewing before. It kept its beady, red eyes on the students, and gave a small flick of its tail.
 
In quiet tones Pomrick spoke candidly to Feä, and with an attentive gaze she listened. Nervousness harried him, she deemed, and all too ready were their fellow students to relish in another stumble. But as Feä opened her mouth in reply there came the interjection of Nalimani, this amounting to a subtle nudge for Pomrick to put to the test all that he had said.

Piece of cake, said Pomrick, though it baffled Feä—she knew not what cake had to do with any of this. But a stroke of confidence, real or feigned, followed, as he declared that the task with the gristlehorn would be "easy as lighting a candle."

And now at Maester Kikwi's behest, Pomrick indeed would be the next.

"Mind yourself," Feä said quietly to Pomrick, glancing to him, "and tread with care."

Words of encouragement, so she intended.

Pomrick Bloomsfield Nilamani Kikwi
 
“Ah, a volunteer! Excellent! Take a crystal and slowly approach the gristlehorn. Mind that you step evenly and securely, as outlined in Dangleborn’s chapter. This one is now extra alert, but that will make the charge stronger. On your way!”

A volunteer?

When the other students parted for him, staring at him with various levels of incredulity, it clocked for him. Somehow, those fickle gods of ill luck had decided to play a terrible prank on him today, and cause Kikwi, the Kenku teacher, to single him out.

...What.... What..? WHAT?!

Pomrick's mind raced with protests even before he could voice them. He hadn't even raised his hand! There were so many students closer to the gate in front of him! Why was the world so unfair?!
"Mind yourself," Feä said quietly to Pomrick, glancing to him, "and tread with care."

Words of encouragement from Feä stopped him from arguing. Did someone actually have faith in him? Maybe . . . maybe this was his chance. Maybe he could finally prove his worth. Or, well, some measure of it, at least.

He swallowed, giving a few, quick nods to Feä, stepping forward. Try as he might to stand tall, his shoulders still slumped and his neck slouched. Walking up to the gate of the paddock in his ungainly manner, fingers fiddling with straps and his crinkled collar, he attempted to flash a confident smile at Kikwi. What came out was a grotesque display of teeth, lips warpling between quivering fear and a forced, rictus smile.

His hand shaking, he accepted a fist-sized crystal from Kikwi. A weird spasm of electricity shocked through his hand at the touch, and for a quarter of a second, a light flashed in the crystal, mirrored by his right eye. Pomrick hardly noticed, though he kept the crystal at an arm's length from himself, like carrying something poisonous.

The beast awaited him in the paddock, its horn sinking lower, beady eyes singling him out. Pomrick's rabbit gaze met it, already signalling that he was prey rather than predator. His knees quivered, refusing to take him inside the paddock. Growing snickers behind him perked up his ears.

 
The Elf's encouraging advice was quite sweet honestly. She seemed like the type to have a good head on her shoulders. It did seem to have some affect with a short puff the young man's ego had inflated and deflated in almost the blink of an eye.

a serpentine smile spread across Nilamani's face. Kikwi's eager acceptance of Pomricks' reluctant boast made this all the more amusing. They weren't entirely rooting for Pomrick to fumble this little exercise per say....but a little bit of bumbling was presumed. There was something about the sort of gangly uncoordinated movements that the young wizard made that deeply amused Nilamani.

They watched Pomrick accept the crystal with a detached bemusement. Only their gaze did sharpen a little when there was a flash of a spark. Unusual things happened at Elbion all the time. but what was that? didn't seem like the sort of this kikwi would setup... a stray discharge? Perhaps there was more reason to keep an eye on this one than just their comedic timing. Perhaps there was some dormant power lurking in those unassuming features.

Or perhaps not? He was hesitating and he hadn't even made it in the gate yet.
"Go on then." Nilamani purred in an almost encouraging tone. They made a small waving motion as if shooing him into the paddock.
 
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Part 1: A Field Day

It was such a nice field.

Even after realizing he was absolutely not in the right place, Akpadiaha Uwem lingered. The barns and huts nestled in the green campus fringe looked unlike anything in the city proper. Their strange wards and iron latches whispered secrets, not just stables, but sanctums. The way the air thickens with magic—hushed and humming—felt more like a shrine than a barnyard.

He wouldn’t have been late if not for that man.

He’d gone to the main building, surely that made sense. He had asked a passing custos for directions, and the man had stopped mid-step, giving Akpa a long once-over with that strange mixture of boredom and unease that too often passed for courtesy among humans.

“Not one of the elven halls,” the man had muttered, eyes flicking over Akpa’s ears, then away too quickly. “Try the east fields, that way.” He hadn’t waited for a thank-you.

Akpa had said it anyway. He’d run the rest of the way, scarf flapping, satchel bouncing, heart stung worse by the man’s tone than his own mistake.

Now, finally, he stood before the paddock gate. He took a steady breath. Straightened his scarf, smoothed his tunic. You are not smaller because of him. He stepped inside.

Part 2: Old Eyes

“Maester Kikwi,”
Akpadiaha said with a short bow, trying not to pant. “Apologies. I was misdirected, but I’ll be present and prepared moving forward.”

His tone was even and polite, though his breath was still catching up. His wide eyes, however, betrayed his curiosity. The small-feathered Maester looked like he belonged on the shoulder of a sailor in an old painting, but he spoke with such conviction and poise. And the humming crystal in his hand…

This is already better than my dorm.

Then, familiar curls. A familiar posture.

“Feä!”

He brightened immediately, waving with both hands as he made his way toward her. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re in this class. I thought I’d be alone, surrounded by lightning-chucking cattle and brick-headed people.”

He leaned in slightly, voice dipping with conspiratorial humor. “And I thought this was going to be a normal lecture. I was not ready for barnyard spellcraft.”

Part 3: New Figures


Akpa’s grin lingered as he glanced around the group, then caught sight of the student standing nearest Feä.

The boy looked like he had held a breath or two. All narrow shoulders and fumbling hands, with the air of someone who fully expected the universe to trip him out of spite. Akpa tilted his head. His tunic was bunched where he’d nervously tugged at it, and his fingers wouldn’t stop twitching like they were trying to cast a spell they’d forgotten.

He looks like a squirrel in a storm. Or a particularly nervous book sprite.

Then, another. A taller student stood nearby, poised with that unbothered confidence Akpa had only seen in aristocrats, wildcats, and some very old temple statuary. Their golden eyes were too sharp to be distracted. Their smile looked more like a secret than a greeting.

That one definitely knows what they’re doing. Or they think they do.

Akpa didn’t speak to either of them. He only watched. And then, almost instinctively, his attention returned to the paddock: the Gristlehorns.

Buzz still in the air. The crystal pulsing gently. One of the beasts staring too directly at the gathered students.

Read the signs. Feel the rhythm.
Observe. Interpret. Breathe.


These were habits drilled into him—not by a single teacher, but by three divine magic users he'd trained alongside, each with their own way of seeing. One read bones. One listened to wind. One counted dreams.

Akpadiaha simply watched. And waited.
 
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Kikwi’s head swiveled to face Akpa, though his body remained stationary and facing the paddock.

“Quite alright, quite alright. Now that you know the way you won’t miss out on the start of any more lessons.”

As ever, Kikwi’s optimism was boundless. Surely the late student would lament missing even a moment of learning. Luckily, not too much had transpired.

He turned his head back to the lad facing down the beast, training oversized eyes on the boy.

“Ease forward now, and place the crystal slowly on the ground. Keep your head up, but don’t make direct eye contact. When you’re safely away, say the command word to set the charge.”

Hopefully Pom remembered the word Kikwi had used in his demonstration. The Gristlehorn was very well trained, so Kikwi couldn’t very well say the word now to remind him, unless Pomrick wanted a quick trip to the infirmary.
 
Pomrick swallowed and stepped inside the paddock. Mentally, he was running in circles to remember all the instructions.

Crystal on the ground. He staggered in, plonking the crystal on the ground with all the ceremony of a drunkard dumping a drained tankard - not from intentional disrespect, but from a panicked rush to follow all the instructions of Kikwi, so he could get away from the Gristlehorn as quickly as possible.

The Gristlehorn's ears flattened menacingly. Flattened ears - bad. His eyes travelled to its head, then its eyes. The beasts' nostrils flared, one hoove grinding earth already.

Wait! No eye contact. He looked back to the crystal, head bending low (failing another instruction), as if it could grant him the answers. What was the command word again? Pomrick had been daydreaming in the queue before his fellow students had grabbed his attention.

"Pup?" he muttered, scratching his head. It helped staring down at it, focusing on it, forgetting Kikwi, the other students and the Gristlehorn for a spell. "Pill? Piss? Eh . . . pun . . ." Then, the word struck him like a bolt of lightning. "Pip! Pip, it's pip!" Inspiration! A miracle of memory! He did it! Pomrick could positively dance from victorious glee, but what mostly came out was an awkward shuffle of feet and strange shaking of his rear and flailing of uncoordinated arms.

The students, the teacher and the Gristlehorn had observed all of this throughout: the red-haired student first crabbing around the crystal, scratching his hair, poking and prodding it with his foot, mumbling to himself, before yelling the command word at the top of his lungs, unleashing a sort of dance of delirium at his own perceived success.

The Gristlehorn, for one, had had enough. And it had finally heard all it needed from Pomrick - its command word, repeated thrice. Its sole obstacle was the apprentice himself, currently standing between it and the crystal, his back turned to the creature. But that wasn't going to stop it.

Pomrick turned when he heard an ominous crackle of energy. His head swiveled up, eyes popping open from reinvigorated fear.

He had just enough time to realise the mistake in his position, and then a blinding flash of light robbed his vision.


Without intervention, the poor apprentice would be struck by much more than a mere bolt of inspiration.
 
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