Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,73

in his hand a sharpened pencil of some sort, but it was nothing like she had ever seen. Also, on top of an old, smoothed-over piece of wood, a good-sized piece of parchment had been centered. The boy was sitting on a bucket. He was facing a group of trees that grew a fruit resembling peaches.

Shalee’s curiosity got the best of her. She leaned over the young man’s shoulder and found herself being led by the arm. The boy guided her to the front of the trees where she was left to pose in front of them.

“Please stay still for a moment, my lady,” the boy said, holding up his hands as if to ensure she would stay in the desired position. “You’ll be my focus. This will be far better than drawing boring, old trees.”

“But I don’t have the time, I mean … the moments. I’m fixin’ to go someplace. What’s your name, little man?”

“My name is Trace. Please don’t go. I promise to capture your beauty.”

Shalee had to smile. He was an adorable child. “Do you have a last name, Trace?”

“Chaslend, my lady.” The boy grinned.

Trace’s cute, chubby, freckled face and red hair made Shalee melt. How could she possibly say no to such an innocent request? “Well, how darling are you. As long as you promise to get my good side, I’ll stay.”

“That’s easy. You don’t have a bad side,” the boy said through a gap-toothed smile.

“Now, now, now … you already know how to make a lady blush. You’re too young to know how to schmooze a woman.”

“What does ‘schmooze’ mean? You talk funny. What makes you sound like that?”

“Don’t you worry yourself about that. You just go on ahead and draw up your little picture. But hurry. I need to get moving.”

“Yes, my lady.”

A while later the boy turned the picture around.

“What do you think?”

Shalee gasped and thought, Maybe Bassorine’s fashion sense isn’t so bad after all. “Trace, it’s beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever met a young man with your talent. I’ll remember you until the day I die. You’ve filled my heart with joy, Mr. Chaslend.

“I’m glad you like it, funny lady, but I better go before my mother gets upset. I’m causing her to be late. Bye!”

“Bye, Trace.” She watched him run away.

When Shalee found the School of Magical Studies, she stood outside for many moments before she walked in. She was nervous, almost to the point of making herself sick. It took everything she had to keep from turning around and going back to the inn. C’mon Shalee. Stop being such a chicken, she thought. You don’t even know what to expect.

The front part of the school was a store. The walls to either side had shelves lined with many things, both creature and plant-oriented. The jars were labeled: Baby Bat Wings, Spider Legs, Mandrake Root, Dragon Scales, Snake Skin, and many other items she had never heard of. She guessed she had an idea what they were used for. One of her favorite TV shows back on Earth was her only frame of reference. The show was about three witches who fought demons in an effort to rid their city of evil. One of the witches had an incredible sense of fashion, but they all used ingredients such as these to make their potions work.

She was not in the store long before an elderly woman, with beautiful, gray hair and soft features, walked into the room holding a staff. The woman’s outfit did not accentuate the curves of her body at all. Shalee thought, Oh, my goodness-gracious, I need to call the Fashion Police. If I’m gonna train with this woman, she’s got to be fixed. It would be a shame to allow her to squander her beauty by wearing horrid fabrics. Now ... how do I tell her? How do women on Grayham handle tragedy?

The woman’s smile was larger than life when she saw Shalee. She rushed across the room. “You’re my new student, Child!” She clapped her hands, and then she reached out to take hold of Shalee’s arm. “Oh, thank the gods the Peak has arrived. I’ve been expecting you for many, many seasons, and I’ve been looking forward to your arrival. My name is Helga Kolinsky.”

“Hello … I think. Ummm … my name is Shalee,” she responded. “You say you’ve been expecting me? I don’t see how. I didn’t tell anyone that I was coming.”

Helga Kolinsky

“No, no, no, Child. It’s not like that. I have dreamt