Dimwater's Demons by Sam Ferguson Page A

I understand that you have an arrangement to marry Miss Kyra Caspen—”
    “Dimwater, sir,” Feberik corrected.
    “Excuse me?” Herion said as his eyes grew stern.
    “Her name is Dimwater, remember sir? She took her mother’s name after the tribunal.”
    Herion sighed and shook his head. “Whatever you want to call her, the point is you can’t go around bashing heads together every time they cause an offense. Don’t think I don’t remember the time you threatened Master Fenn. You have a temper, and you must learn to control it.”
    “It just didn’t seem right,” Feberik blurted out. “With all due respect, his wife’s body isn’t cold yet. He had only just denounced and disowned his daughter. He had no business throwing a drunken party in the first place, let alone cozying up to another man’s wife.”
    “What another man does to ease his pains is none of your affair,” Herion said plainly. “It may not sit well with you, but nothing you saw was against the law. Whenever you go out from these halls, you represent not only the Orres family, but Kuldiga Academy.”
    Feberik shook his head, his temper beginning to get the better of him. “And this school is supposed to stand for honor, or is that only something we tell the students during intake and graduation ceremonies?”
    Herion sighed and went back to sit in the chair once more. “Calm down, Feberik, I didn’t bring you here to discipline you for humbling a wayward noble. I brought you here because you need to understand that you must control your temper if you are to lead.”
    Feberik’s mouth opened to say something, but then he stopped and left his jaw hanging as he looked to the headmaster. Lead what? What on Terramyr was the old man talking about.
    “Truth is, Feberik, that other people have noticed you. You have made an impression upon those in authority. You have also riled some nobles, of course, but nothing will come of that. These letters have no force behind them, but I want you to read them after I dismiss you so you can try to manage your temper in the future.” Headmaster Herion pointed back over his head toward the stained-glass window. “What do you see?”
    Feberik, now utterly confused, took in a breath and shrugged. “I see a man standing upon a great serpent, running a spear through the serpent’s head.”
    “Feberik, you know that Kuldiga Academy was founded to protect the realm, yes? It was not only to teach the next generation of warriors and wizards who would fight battles for our defense, but it was also created to establish an elite, powerful unit of well-trained individuals capable of accomplishing special tasks for the king. The window behind you symbolizes this unit.”
    Herion snapped his fingers and the light in the window brightened. The images of the man and the serpent extended out from the window until they were inches from Feberik’s face.
    “Look at the warrior, Feberik,” Herion instructed. He was the first leader of this unit. The serpent is not to be taken literally, however. It represents a group of necromancers. Perhaps you have heard of the Zmea Necromancers?”
    “I have,” Feberik said with a nod.
    Herion snapped his fingers again and the image faded back into the window. “The word ‘Zmea’ means snake in one of the arcane languages. Therefore, the image depicts the moment of our victory over them.”
    “What does this have to do with me?” Feberik asked.
    “Do you know how the headmaster of Kuldiga Academy is chosen?” Herion asked, switching topics abruptly. Headmaster Herion rose from the chair and walked toward Feberik.
    The large warrior shook his head. “I assume by seniority,” he said with a shrug.
    “Not even close,” Herion said with a raspy laugh. “The headmaster is chosen from among those who serve in this special unit. That way, the unit can continue to operate fully, vanquishing evil and stamping out those that would use magic for nefarious purposes. A vote is cast