Chapter 1: C is for Chloroform (Judy)
Should you take a trip to Ocean City, New Jersey during the late weeks of May you will find many things. Gorgeous beach cottages lining the streets, warm balmy days, and the crashing ocean that is freezing cold are the many aspects of this town that attracts vacationers from New England. It's still not tourist season yet so if you were to roam down the boardwalk late at night you would have a chance of bumping into Judy Geisler. And who is Judy Geisler you might ask? A gal from Philly. What? You were expecting something more? Unfortunately for you Judy is not Superman, that's for sure. And she's not Batman, or Spiderman, or Aquaman, or a merman, or a wolfman. She's not a brahman, or uncommon, or ramen. She's not a caiman either, so you don't really need to worry about anything. I guess you could say... She is no man. The specifics are rather boring; she is a senior at West Virginia University with a 3.4 G.P.A majoring in Accounting and on track to graduating in the fall. She has a mom and a dad and a younger sister. Her parents make good money, good enough for them to be able to rent a beach cottage for the entire summer here in Ocean City. Since birth she's played among the dunes here every summer.
That familiarity with this town bred a sense of security strong enough for her to be wandering down the boardwalk alone before the summer season in Ocean City kicks off. Because it's still early there aren't as many tourists on the boardwalk especially at one o'clock in the morning. Her mind is filled with thoughts too, thoughts that make her ignorant of her surroundings. These thoughts are about the future, the life she will lead after graduation. Like every young person from every generation ever she feels inadequately prepared to be an independent adult. It's these deep thoughts that prevent her from hearing the very quiet tapping of shoes hitting the boards behind her. Perhaps if she had been alert she might have noticed she was being stalked. Perhaps she might have escaped him or, perhaps, she was doomed from the start because there aren't any tourists on the boardwalk because the season hasn't started yet.
Disaster is a strange fellow, sometimes he can approach with an agonizing crawl. How did ancient civilizations cope with a yearlong famine that destroyed their crops and subjected them to starvation? How does Venice cope knowing there is precious time before the vast majority of their city sinks into the sea thanks to the structural damage the salt has inflicted over the centuries? But sometimes disaster is a quick little bugger. It reaches out and destroys what was once a perfectly harmless moment. One second Judy was walking aimlessly without a care in world past the hotel on 3rd street heading for 2nd street when something cloth like was thrust into her face. A cloying smell assaulted her nostrils making her gag for a second as her brain raced along trying to figure out what the body was doing. Instinctually she jerked back trying to move her face to the side but a hand pressed itself against the crown of her head keeping her in place. The world began to blur and shift like a mirage forcing Judy to take a staggering step to the side. Even though the anesthesia was making short work of her brain two thoughts emerged in her head making her panic. The first was the belayed realization about what was going on, she was being kidnapped. The second was that her cellphone was on the charger back at the beach house. Before the darkness set in completely she noted the pink-blue light glimmering off in the distance. Ever since she was a little she had gazed at it in wonder. It was part of the nightly parade of lights that illuminated from Atlantic City. Her father theorized that it was the sign from the casino known as the Flamingo but since she had never been to Atlantic City Judy could never be sure.
Her mysterious attacker retreated as quickly as he could. He wasn't terribly fit so he was forced to drag the body behind him. It made a rhythmic whumping noise as the tip of her shoes whacked up against the slats of weathered wood which made him check around nervously. He had checked his surroundings multiple times as he stalked her and he was 99.9% sure there was no one within the immediate vicinity. Still, lollygagging would only enlarge his margin for error so he picked up his pace. There was a ramp leading down onto 3rd Street that he took that was lined with beach houses. Grabbing a disposable phone from his pocket he checked the menu, he had one unread message. It was from his accomplice's phone "b thur n 2 min" the message read. The kidnapper looked around again; this was the most vulnerable part of their operation. After jumping at imaginary policemen emerging from the sandy scrub brush keeping the sand dunes together the flash of the headlights nearly made him wet himself. Quickly he pushed the body under the boardwalk and did his best to look nonchalant. Behind his back he applied a new layer of chloroform to the rag; if he had to he would add to their quota.
Lucky for him it was his accomplice driving their pitiful little Prius down the street. Parking in the middle of the roundabout he got out and opened the passenger door before assisting the kidnapper with placing the body into the back seat of the car. The pair unconsciously scanned the street; no lights were on in the windows. "Do you have it," the kidnapper asked rhetorically. The accomplice pulled a device out of his pocket, "This thing would get way more dangerous if it wasn't. I bet you a thousand dollars we would get caught if we had to drive back home."
"Lucky for us that's a situation we'll never have to be in." The kidnapper smirked and turned the device on, the screen glowed and loaded.
"Pick her up" the kidnapper instructed. His accomplice hoisted Judy's unconscious body into a standing position with his arms on her shoulders.
"Work that freaky magic bro," the accomplice said as the weirdness began.
After it was done the kidnappers climbed into the car, "Should we wait until we get home or should we start now?"
The kidnapper smiled, he was excited at what was about to begin. "I'll make sure the volume is turned up all the way so you can listen too." Pressing his forefinger to the touch screen he hit a button. The machine gave a confirmation chime to signal that a new game had begun.
Usually, in these kinds of situations, a person stirs a bit before realizing they are in a strange new place then vault off the bed with their brain firing on all cylinders. Judy was rather slow when to came to that epiphany. Instead of action fast reflexes she yawned and drowsed on without so much as a thought pertaining to her surroundings. Eventually sleep wore off leaving her staring aimlessly up at the ceiling. "That's such a weird ceiling," she commented to herself. "What the hell is it made of?" It looked like straw but it was rougher, coarser, braided in such a way that it effectively blocked out most of the sun streaming in from above. "Wait a moment," Judy said, slowly getting closer. "Who the hell has a roof made of…not cement or wood? That's weird." Picking herself up she gazed about the room quizzically. "This looks…quaint," she breathed, drawing closer to it. It was a pretty small room made out of rough hewn rock with a small wooden cot, which she was laying on, with a dirt floor and nothing else furniture wise. "Where the hell am I?" she asked and then BAM, epiphany. Epiphany was followed by panic attack, fetal position, speculation over why she had been kidnapped, panic attack over realizing that all those horror stories on the news about silly girls like her wandering about alone at night were about to happen to her. For an unknown amount of time she switched between panic attacks and paralyzing fear.
Eventually boredom ground down the fear leaving her in a limbo between a phantom fear of the beyond and the curiosity about what lay beyond the door. Their love child was apathy reducing Judy to quivering pile of sad sap gazing at the door from her position on the bed. She waited for horrors to emerge from the doorway but they never came. Boredom set in again. It overwhelmed her mind so much that fear promptly vanished into thin air and the logic that it couldn't get any worse roused her from bed. Pushing herself up, she had been lying down on the bed face down, Judy quietly tiptoed her way over to the door. It was a poorly crafted thing; it had not been sanded at all with a cheap door handle nailed to the right side. Gripping the tarnished metal Judy slowly dragged it back. The hinges gave a horrendous squeaking noise alerting the single occupant in the next room of her presence. Peering out from behind the door she looked around. The room was a bit bigger than the one she had come out of and just as sparsely decorated. There was a small fireplace built into the west side of the wall. Sun streamed in through two windows which were crisscrossed with thin metal lines so each pane looked like it was made up of fat vertical diamonds. A clone of the door she was leaning up against was on the east wall. There were several brass pots and pans stacked up in the far west corner but they didn't look all that dirty. There was a table in the middle of the room, carved from the same wood as the doors. It was a small, square table fit for two people. The top was worn down, not by a sander but from the wear and tear of everyday life. It looked faintly shiny, like grease. There were two small stools so people could dine on it, one of those stools was bigger and someone was seated on it.
It was a man, possibly her captor. He certainly looked like he could drag her into a white van and drive away. He was over six feet, Judy was terrible with measuring height so she couldn't be sure but she guessestimated he was 6'4-6'5. He was old, not ancient old but more middle age old. His hair was a gun metal grey, a few years away from whitening. His skin was coarse, partially due to the passage of time but Judy couldn't chalk it up to just that. Could he have been a war vet? She could certainly see him marching through the desert clime during the Persian Gulf War. His figure supported her old soldier theory. He was ridiculously built for an over the hill guy. She couldn't see his chest thanks to his shirt but his arms were like tree trunks. Speaking of his clothes he was dressed in a loose fitting beige shirt and cracked leather sandals. She couldn't see his pants because he was sitting. Overall he was quite the looker 'Some men are like wine,' Judy thought giving him a once over, 'They blossom with age.'
Still she didn't exactly swoon over his looks; she was far too busy trembling at the gaze he was piercing her with. His hands were clapped in front of his face drawing her gaze into his eyes which an earth brown and slightly furrowed in concentration. It wasn't a glare but it wasn't bedroom eyes either. After racking her brain Judy settled uneasily on the notion he was sizing her up. A smarter person might have been plotting their escape, perhaps a break towards the door or a run at the pots in the corner so they could attack the man. Judy just stood there dumbly for a second before dropping her gaze to the dirt floor.
"Are you the one who kidnapped me?" she asked quietly.
"No," the man replied.
Surprised Judy looked up at him again "You'll let me go home then?"
"You can't go home," the man said.
"Why? Are you working for the person who brought me here?"
The man didn't say anything for a bit, "In a way, yes."
He sounded a shade angry when he admitted that but Judy had other things to think about. "So you're going to stop me?"
"Stop you from what?"
"Escaping."
The man shook his head and said nothing. Taking this as permission to flee Judy crept over to the door and opened it. There was no beach outside the door or city or boardwalk or anything urban. Instead she stepped out into a pastoral dream with forests and blue sky and birdsong.
"What," Judy mouthed looking about quizzically. "Where the hell is this?" Had her kidnappers dumped her somewhere else? 'Well. Duh,' Judy thought smacking her head, 'Of course they took me somewhere else, they're kidnappers! That's what they do." Glancing back at the cabin Judy confirmed the man wouldn't be following her outside so she left. She didn't run or anything dramatic like that, it seemed a little silly considering the peaceful scenery. Strolling along the dirt road that lead away from the house Judy headed to the left down the knoll the house sat on. The path went on for about twenty minutes before coming onto a larger nature trail. 'I hope this leads to a freeway,' she thought anxiously as she followed it. It did lead to a road, the weirdest road the woman had ever seen. It wasn't asphalt; it was a brick and mortar affair that could be seen in older sections of cities. Like every other man made thing she had come across it was roughly made, the mortar was cracked and dry while the bricks were asymmetrically laid. It would have been hell on a car's chassis. It was devoid of any vehicles markings leading Judy to guess it was some sort of one lane country road. 'It's quaint,' she thought as she stepped onto it and headed north.
During her trek she thought about where she was. A quick glance around to the side of the road showed her nothing but thick forest. 'Well I think I'm still in New England,' Judy pondered to herself. 'The Midwest is mostly flat and the West Coast doesn't have these sorts of trees. But…that's still a lot of ground to cover.' Her musing was interrupted by the clack of hooves behind her. Moving to one side Judy let the caravan pass before returning to her thoughts. 'Let's see, I could be deeper in Pennsylvania. More to the West though, away from Philly. Does New Jersey have forests like this? Wait, what the hell?" She did a double take. The vehicle heading down the road was a caravan that looked like it had time traveled from the fifteenth century. It was crafted of wood with two brown oxen pulling it forward with a lurching gait. It was covered by a flowing white tarp that looked like it provided shade and little else. At the helm was a mustachioed young man limply holding the reigns with a look of pure boredom tattooed onto his face. Around him were cows, a small herd that numbered somewhere around two dozen. A second young man rode a tired gelding keeping his eagle eyes peeled on the cows.
After Judy remembered to close her gaping mouth she shook herself out of her stupor "E-excuse me," she called out. "Can you help me?" She ran forward to where the guy riding the horse was, "Please I need help!"
"Ask my brother, lady" the man said not taking his eyes off the bovines "Doing a job here."
Scorned, Judy turned her attention to the somnambulant man driving the wagon. "Please help me, I was kidnapped!"
The man jerked up "Huh, whazzat?" Yawning he rubbed his tired eyes "Are we there Charlie?"
"Nah Lester, some gal here is saying she's been kidnapped."
"No kiddin" the man said looking down at Judy, "That true ma'am?"
"Yes, I got away but I don't know where I am" Judy replied "What state am I in?"
"Hysteria from the looks of it" Lester deadpanned. "You aught to calm down and 'splain your situation."
"I was walking the boardwalk in Ocean City when someone pushed a rag in front of my face. I think it was chloroform cause the next minute I-"
"Whoa, whoa there missy, calm yo' tits," Charlie said. "What in tarnation are you talking 'bout? Board walking? City ocean? New jer-what now?"
"Missie how many fingers am holdin' up?" Lester asked placing three fingers into the air.
"Three" Judy replied "Am I even in the United States?" Could her captors put her on a plane and flown her to Australia or something? She dismissed this thought immediately; the men talking to her didn't have foreign accents though.
"Lester, I done reckon she's either hit her head or just plumb bat shit crazy."
"I think it's the later" his brother answered. "Though do you recall that yarn circulating round these parts? Some bandits got themselves to the bright idea to drug young gals from the villages they plunder and pump 'em with so much Grima Tears so they get so shitfaced they can't tell hens from roosters. Then they get them to stop caravaners and distract them while they make off with cargo." Both brothers cast a weather eyeball around looking for any sign of hustlers.
"Bandits, Grima-what. I ain't shitfaced, I was kidnapped!" Judy insisted. "Look, why don't you tell me where this is?"
"The middle of nowhere," Charlie replied.
"The middle of nowhere, where?" Judy asked frustratedly.
"The middle of nowhere, here," Lester said. "Listen lass we're heading to Ylisstol, got any family round those parts?"
"Ylisstol?" Judy asked 'Where the hell is that?"
"Thundereeza woman! You really are bat shit crazy" Charlie exclaimed. "Ylisstol's the capital."
A sudden tiredness fell across Judy's shoulders even though she had woken up not a half hour ago. "I…see…?" Her mind began to buzz; thoughts flew through her head like a cage full of butterflies. Disengaging herself from the caravan she began to trek back, her head hanging down. "
Ya'll be careful" Lester shouted at her "Don't go getting kidnapped again!" She didn't acknowledge them. The path wasn't hard to retrace and in no time she was back at the cottage she had woken up on.
She opened the door. The buff man hadn't moved from his seat "Sit down," he instructed her motioning to the chair across from him.
"You were waiting for me," she said quietly not moving from her position leaning on the doorframe. "You knew I would come back."
"This ain't my first rodeo, kid," he said. His voice was a low bass with a hefty chunk of gravel; he didn't speak as much as he growled.
"So you are my kidnapper," she said glaring at him. "Where the hell did you take me?"
"I ain't the one who kidnapped you but feel free to believe whatever you want, won't change things."
"Where the hell am I?" she repeated listlessly, her head hurt like a bitch.
"Sit down," he said.
She shook her head, "I want to stand."
"I said sit your ass down, girl. I don't bite."
Wanting to get the ball rolling Judy sat down then placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. She leant forward so her forehead was supported by her hands and closed her eyes, "Where. The. Hell. Am. I?"
"You play videogames, kid?" he asked making her eyebrow twitch.
"What does that have to do with anything" she asked aggravated.
"Just answer the damn question."
She shuffled in her seat a littl,e "Yeah I do. Don't tell anybody, 'kay?"
"These lips are sealed," the man deadpanned. "Are you a hardcore player or a casual."
She squirmed "Casual…"
"Liar."
"Is it that obvious?" she asked rubbing her face. "I try so hard to hide it too."
"It's a pattern" he explained to her. He held up a hand before she could ask him what he meant by that, "Questions later, first off, do you know the videogame series called Fire Emblem?"
She nodded, "Yeah it's a great tactical series. What does that have to do with anything?"
"You're in Fire Emblem 13," he said then studied her face for a reaction.
She didn't have much of one; she just stared at the table blankly, "That makes sense…they said Ylisstol."
"Here's the basic rundown, feel free to ask me to repeat this a few times. Sometimes it takes a while to set in." The man took a deep breath and leaned back "You were kidnapped by two bastards. Instead of locking you up in their basement or selling you into slavery they…put you into their videogame."
Judy didn't say anything for an hour, she just sat there eyes glazed over. "What?" she asked breaking the long silence. He repeated it and let it sink in. This became a pattern with the time between each request for him to repeat it shortening until only five minutes of silence between each question.
She jerked her head up suddenly, "What the fuck? How the hell can they do that?" It had finally sunk in and the ridiculousness of the situation oozed its way into her brain.
"Don't gotta fucking clue," the man replied with a shrug "They say they got some sort of power that lets 'em shove people in here but who the hell knows. Maybe this some sort of screwed Matrix shit, or a bad trip, or a coma, maybe you're dreaming."
"I don't dream," Judy piped up.
"Cross it off the list then. But ultimately it don't matter, you're fucked either way."
"Alright, how do I get home," Judy asked. "Got a pair of ruby pumps somewhere in this shithole?"
"Hey. I live here," the man said. "Apparently they'll let you out if you beat story mode."
"Gee that's just peachy," Judy exclaimed with mock cheerfulness. "Let's pal around with Chrom and friends while waging three wars in the span of a few years. Never mind that my parents are probably looking for me scared out of their minds. Never mind my happiness. Never mind the fact that I was going to graduate this year!" She was becoming more and more hysterical with each passing second, her voice crescendo into a high pitched quaver. "Oh stars, I'm going to die aren't I? Some pansy ass myrmidon is probably going to gut me like a fish. I don't want to die! What am I going to do?"
"Life's fulla shit kid" the man said, possibly in an attempt to soothe her.
"Shit? Shit? This isn't shit, this is a fucking catastrophe!" Judy screamed. Her breathing rate had been cranked up to the point she was hyperventilating.
The man stood up and walked over to the corner. He knelt down in front of the pots and picked up one of them. He put it in front of her face just in time; Judy proceeded to spew chunks all over the place. Kneeling there, with her head over the despoiled pot Judy gasped like a fish as the reality of her situation crushed her. Wiping her dirty mouth with her sleeve she began to quiver and hiccup. "If you're going to cry do it in the back room," the man said abrasively. "I don't like crybabies."
She was too distraught to heed him so he picked her up by the shoulder and shoved her into the back room. Staggering forward a few feet she made it to the edge of the bed before she fell onto her knees banging them up against the frame of the cot in the process. "Shit," was the last word she got out before being reduced to noisy, nasal sobs. She spent three days in that room. The first was spent crying over herself. It was truly a spectacular pity party with her wondering who she had pissed off enough upstairs to get them to do something like this to her. The second day was going through the stages of grief with hours being used to get her through each one. Acceptance wasn't the last stage though, it was apathy. The third day was spent looking at the far wall listlessly, not really alive but not quite dead. She might have stayed that way too but the man came in the morning of the fourth day.
"Pity party's over, kid," he informed her putting his hands on his waist. "Now either you can lick this or you can give up."
"What's the point?" she asked in a very tired voice. "Bet you anything I can't win."
"Sit up," he instructed her. Languidly she did, her legs dangled off the cot as she looked up at him. Reaching behind his waist, now that he was standing in front of her she could see that he was wearing faded blue pants that were badly frayed and held up by a thick piece of braid rope, and put something in front of her face. It was a large knife that was much too big to be used for cooking. "Life or death, kid," he told her. "You can get up and try or lie down and die. I won't judge you either way." Mute, she took the knife in her hand with her fingers gripped around the metal handle. "Just don't do it on the cot, ok? The blood's difficult to get out." He instructed her before heading back to the first room.
An hour passed and the man reasoned that she had killed herself. He got up but before he could take a step the door opened and Judy stood there. She walked over to the table and plopped the knife down onto the table. It was not stained with blood. "Tried to do it a few times," she croaked. "Couldn't do it, thought it would hurt too much."
He nodded and took the tool off the table. "Poison would have been easier," she said sitting down. "More dignified that way."
"Don't know crap about botany or else I would have offered."
"I can't promise you anything," Judy said staring into his eyes.
"Me neither," the man replied. "Let's get started."
"With what," Judy asked.
"Training," the man replied. "You're going to be fighting in a war. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you don't know shit about fighting."
"How fucked am I?"
"Depends on how much talent you have, you could be a prodigy," the man said. "If you don't got any talent then practice, practice, practice."
She nodded, "What class am I? If I'm a fucking myrmidon you slide that knife back over here. I'm not dealing with that bullshit."
For the first time since they had met the man's face broke into something other than solemnness. He gave a huge belly laugh, a rumbling, manly thing that vibrated the air around them. "You're not as dumb as you look, kid," he said with a smir.k "Here's the first piece of good news I got for you, you ain't some pansy ass myrmidon."
"Thank the stars," she said before raising an arm into the air. "Though I guess I could have figured that out for myself," She wriggled her bare hand in front of his face, "No fingerless gloves."
"You're not half as smart as you think you are," he told her wryly. "Take a look at your robes, kid."
For the first time since she had woken up Judy noticed that her outfit had changed. Instead of a camisole and jeans she was decked out in robes. Standing up she began to strip in front of the man. She took off a small cape, a robe, a small linen shirt, some pants made of a thin loose material, and a sash that held it all together. The robes, sash, and cape were all the same color, bright neon orange. "I'll look like a fruit loop in these," she complained turning to the man. "Can I turn into a different class?"
"Knock yourself ou,t" he said reaching into his shirt. He brought out a small necklace with a blue tab on it. "Mind you, you only got access to one other class."
"Let me take a wild guess," she deadpanned. "Myrmidon."
"Bingobango" the man said with a nod.
"Keep it," she gave a dismissive wave. "There's a difference between looking like a dumbass and being one." She put her clothes back on as best she could; they were more involved than the stuff she usually wore. Once she had fiddled with the sash for a ten minute span she gave up and plopped down into her seat with her clothes ruffled from her manhandling. "So, magic," she said.
"Yep" he stood up and wandered over to the front door. He disappeared outside for a moment before returning with several items. One was a stack of book whose cover was identical to the robes Judy was wearing. The other was a pylon.
Picking up one of the books Judy read the cover aloud. "Fire," she said. "This I get but what's with the road cone?"
"It's not a road cone, it's your hat."
"Stars no," she said thrusting a hand forward. "Come on, I already look like Reese's cup in this junk."
"Well the hat completes the ensemble," the man said plopping it onto her head "See, now you look like a crayon." Reaching down under her chin he tied the two hat straps together so they snugly fit.
"The girls in Fire Emblem 7 and 8 never wore the hat," she hissed.
"Sucks to be you," the man said not giving a damn. "Any questions before we begin?"
"Yeah, who the hell are you," Judy asked scratching her chin; the straps were itchy. "Why are you here."
"I'm the guy who trains the ones they pick," he explained. "They grabbed me when they couldn't get anyone past the fourth chapter."
"So there have been others before me," she commented.
"Come here" he said motioning her over to the door to the back room. On the side of the door facing the adjacent room there were a bunch of lines slashed into it. They were done Roman style with four lines being crossed diagonally by a fifth for easy counting. "5…10…15…20…25…30…35…36, 37," she counted. "Thirty seven people have been here already."
The man didn't say anything. Raising the knife he cut another notch into the door "You're thirty eight," he informed her. "Have to get to one hundred before they'll let me go."
"Harsh," Judy said turning her attention away from the tally. "By the way, what's your name? I'm sick of referring to you as "the soldier" in my mind."
"It's that obvious, huh," he said running a hand through his hair. "What gave it away."
"It was more of a guess really," she replied with a shrug. "You got a…demeanor about you"
"Care to take a guess which part of the army?" he asked.
"Eh, I don't know much about the army," she said with a shrug. "The Marines?"
"Naw, Delta Force."
Judy gave an impressed whistle, "Not really sure what they do but I think they rank up there pretty high."
"My name's Hank," he said. "Let's get cracking." He sat down at the table and took one of the books off the stack. He slid it across the table to where her spot was and motioned for her to sit down.
"Funny, I thought this was going to be more like boot camp," she commented as she popped a squat.
"Do you want it to be boot camp?" Hank asked.
"Nope, just kinda figured you'd be all up in my face screaming at me," Judy replied the relief was evident in her voice. "I swore to myself if I ever got drafted I would break my legs before I went to boot camp."
"Ain't you lucky," he snarled. "Now pay attention." For the next four hours he began to lecture her about the mechanics of magic, the physics that were involved and the necessary requirements in order to successfully cast a spell. Classes were structured like college classes; Hank was the professor and Judy the student. By the end of the first week her head felt numb from trying to wrap her mind around the basics of casting a Fire spell.
"This is stupid," she said one day during their lunch break. "Can't I just use the magic. I'm more of a hands on kinda girl."
"The hell you are," he snarled at her over his beef stew. "Look, kid, this ain't like a car. You can't just know how to do it. You gotta know why you can do it and what's it's made up of. You're more likely to set yourself on fire than anyone else if you half ass it."
Two months passed before she could even get her hands on a spell tome and when she did she found out there was a whole other aspect to casting besides knowing theorems and science. "I have to sing the incantation?" she exclaimed "What is this, choir?"
"You don't have any choral experience, kid?" Hank asked. "They usually align your class with something your already good at."
"I took choir in high school," Judy admitted. "We went to nationals but I'm not good enough for soloes."
"That's fine, only the really talented mages fight solo; most likely you'll be in a study of mages all casting together. Like choir, but with fireballs." That was a very accurate metaphor; all the sheets inside a Fire Tome were music sheets with lines of notes of notes scrawled into the notation.
"I'm guessing knowing how to read sheet music is a requirement for being a mage?"
"Bingobango, kid," the man said. "And know for a little demonstration. 5th page, Fire in E." The guy hummed to himself for a bit, no doubt trying to stabilize his voice into the key, before singing the incantation.
O sorceress
clad in the flames of Hell...
let thy fiery incantation bear its fangs
Judy had been expecting Hank to be tone deaf but he surprised her. He easily hit C2 under C qualifying him to be Basso Profondo, a vocal range Judy had never had the pleasure of hearing. His voice shook her to core while the heat of the flames washed over her skin. Instead of some wimpy fireball a massive plume of flame erupted from the ground, spiraled about in the air, before exploding in the air like a massive firecracker. "That was amazing," Judy breathed. "Can I do that?"
"Hell no," Hank said gruffly. "You'll need years of practice before your that good and maybe not even then. A lot of this magic stuff requires tons of innate talent."
"Do you think I'll be that talented?" Judy asked seriously hoping that she would be.
"Let's see" he said handing the book over to her. She couldn't hit E under C so she settled for the octave above middle C. Her lyric mezzo soprano was passable but it was obvious why she had never been selected to do soloes in choir. The Fire she conjured was pretty sad too. Instead of a plume she crafted a little fireball the size of a potato that trundled forward a bit before arching downward and burning a hole in the grass not five feet away from her.
"We've got a long way to go," Hank said staring down at the embers of her fireball. "Well ya ain't a prodigy but at least you can at least cast magic."
"Thanks," Judy mumbled, she felt disappointed that her attempt was so pitiful.
"Rome wasn't built in a day," he reminded her. "From the top."
That night over dinner they discussed the future. "Man, I had no idea how hard this magic stuff wa,s" she complained massaging her throat. "Do you think I'll be ready for the Shepherds soon?"
"Shepherds," Hank parroted. "What the hell are you talking about, girl?"
"You know, Chrom's group," Judy said. "That's how these things work, right?"
"No, you're an inexperienced mage without a lick of innate talent to bolster your appeal. The Shepards are like the Marines, the best of the best. Why the hell would Chrom accept a rookie like you?"
"Then where the hell am I supposed to go after this?"
Hank looked at her, "You're joining the army, kid. Just like any other greenhorn."