I wanted to take a second to thank you all for helping me reach 100 chapters!
And 77.65K Views in English and another 50.31K Views over on the Spanish Readers end.
You are all amazing and I love you beyond words.
You have no Idea.
Happy new year, and thank you all for your astounding loyalty.
I will be starting Part 2 soon!
And I would love to put out a PHYSICAL EDITION to Volume One: Embers
So that you all can have it to hold and love in your hands!
Wish me luck!
I won't keep you all waiting!
Enjoy!
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Reteger Rushe.
Part-time ace Pulse-wing Aviator.
Part-time phenomenal Flight Instructor.
Part-time practitioner of Aerial Acrobatics.
Full-time dedicated Professor of Advanced Aether Aerodynamics.
Professor Rushe was all but a legend amongst the staff and students of Garth Verlore, even when standing next to the likes of Professor Rayden the acclaimed Astronomage, or even the captivating Superintendent Lady Morgenthyn herself.
He was a beloved and cherished favorite amongst that very same staff and student body for not only his extensive list of accomplishments, but his willingness to give, assist, and always be forever selfless.
His temperament was calm and discerning, much like his approach to nearly everything he set his mind to doing.
His teaching style was steeped in integrity and the practice of always leading by example.
None could truly say what the Elf was like outside of his classroom and in his personal life, but it would not have been so far off to assume that he was just as kind and welcoming while not seeing to his students.
Reteger had been with Garth Verlore for so long that he had grown to feel as if he had always been there.
Alas,100 years is not so long a span of time to one whose blood was as purely Elven as his.
Indeed, 100 years was not very long at all to an Elf.
The Pulse-wing Flight System or P.F.S. was amongst Professor Rushe's most lauded and awarded inventions, and today he would demonstrate to his group of gathered Y1's (Year one students) just why that was a such a fact.
The brilliant engineer had been tweaking and tuning and perfecting several versions of his flight-enabling harness for very nearly half of his life.
Failure after failure had found and followed him throughout that time, but he had persevered.
He had resolved to never give up on what was his dream.
His dream of someday flying high above Enverdolmal.
Ever.
Regardless of what the nay-sayers spat...
Regardless of what personal wealth he had to invest...
Regardless of what family and allies he had lost along the way...
Regardless of the unfathomable number of bones he had broken...
It had all come to this point.
The point at which he stood now.
Both highly praised and paid fairly well for his knowledge, expertise, and time.
But most importantly to him?
He was blessed with the opportunity to pass on his wealth of knowledge and know-how to the next generation, and the next after that.
Before him the class of 12 chattered quietly amongst themselves, shifting about in their seats at their desk as they awaited the start of the days presentation.
Professor Rushe was not nearly as dramatic as Professor Rayden, but his charisma was equal to if not greater still than that of the esteemed Astronomage.
This made him that much better suited to what he did on a daily bases, and what he did, he did extraordinarily well.
Moving his hand to his lips, the statuesque Professor let loose a short, sharp, bird-like whistle that was not unlike that of a hawk.
It caught the attention of all in attendance.
All of the children immediately turned and righted themselves, each of them placing their hands before themselves with one wrist or the other gently held by one hand or the other.
Reteger had implemented this rule early on in his first years of teaching in order to help the younger students learn not only to mind their posture, but also to ensure that they kept their hands to themselves and away from not only one another, but the many and varied tools and tinker-tech things that littered the simi-hazardous teaching environment.
While he had their attention, and while his own was focused enough to talk slowly and steadily, he crossed his hands behind his back and began the presentation.
"Good morning young ladies and young gentleman, and welcome back to your weekly Advanced Aether Aerodynamics course!"
Try as he might, he could do little to mask the excitement and anxiety that crept into his voice as he went on."
"And what a class today shall be! Today's lesson will be a bit...well, different!"
He said, turning as he did so to show the curious kids the contraption that was strapped to his upper back.
It was his completed and fully-functional Pulse-wing Flight System.
The lot of the children stood as one, their tiny mouths dropping open and letting forth a cacophony of "Ooooh's" and "Aaaah's"
Their little arms and hands flailed about in an attempt to garner the educators attention before anyone else.
Turning about to face them once again and with a bright and beaming smile, Professor Rushe patted the air gently before him seeking calm and order once more.
"Oookay! Okay! I hear ya!"
He said, failing to contain a bit of a chuckle at the classes level of excitement.
Secretly he was glad for it.
Their energy was infectious to the Elf, validating even.
It also aided in quieting some of his own internal criticisms of himself.
It helped in helping him believe that what he did for a living had real purpose.
It helped him believe that leaving his own kind and kin behind to teach at Garth Verlore and subsequently accomplishing several of his own goals was worth all of the sacrifice and loneliness...
He shook his head just a bit, bringing himself back to reality.
He brushed the intruding dark edges of his sadness back to the darkest corner of his mind where it belonged...
That was not what this day was about.
That was not the side of him that his students saw as he stood before them.
He would show them his light.
His wings.
He would teach them to navigate the sky.
To fly.
To reach for whatever they though they wanted in life and set goals toward.
He would start with todays demonstration.
But first, a quick explanation.
"Yes, yes. Today is the day that we all have be waiting for!
Today I am honored to have the opportunity to demonstrate to you the Aetheral power and aerial precision of the Pulse-wing Flight System Version 4!"
The once-settled students went wild once again, leaping from their chairs and chanting in unison as they danced about atop their chairs and desk.
"VER-SION 4!"
"VER-SION 4!"
"VER-SION 4!"
They went on and on, only attempting to calm themself after realizing that Professor Rushe was waiting patiently with his arms crossed over his thin chest, and a smirk painted over his gently-aged face.
With a flourish of movement, and several loud scrapping noises, desk were straightened and chairs were brought back to place.
With a slight bow of his head, the Elf went on.
"The weather is a bit dreary today..."
He said, gazing over at the window to see the clouds off in the distance that had begun to encroach. His right hand loved to his mouth, his pointer finger tapping his lower lip in though.
The class turned as one and let lose a collective sigh as their little hopes of seeing their beloved Professor sore over head were seemingly dashed against the dark grey clouds that was the incoming storm.
Professor Rushe caught the feeling like a palpable wave of disappointment.
That was simply unexpectable.
With another short, sharp whistle he held once again all of their attention.
"Alas, I've promised you all a flight demonstration just as soon this here set up was ready to go, and well? It is! and a spot of rain ain't never harmed a soul, now has it?"
He said with a wink and a smile, one that sent the little group into their third frenzy of the day.
-Nap time would go swimmingly- the Professor though to himself.
He went on, letting the children have their fun and bask in their merriment.
"I am nothing if not an Elf of my word, am I not?"
He said as he reached for a cup of pencils that sat at the corner of his desk.
He placed a single, long, thin finger on the eraser of an old, gangly, dirty, brown one.
The single one that none of his students had ever dared to touch.
With a flick of his finger, the pencil tilted over and to its left.
The students leaned forward in silence now, waiting for whatever was to come.
There was a soft pop, and an opaque puff of smoke, and suddenly before them on Professor Rushe's desk there sat a weird shimmering red plastic bottom.
Before a single hand could raise to beacon an answer, Rushe pointed straight upward with is left hand.
All of the students leaned back in into their seats, craning their necks to follow his gestor.
15 feet above the class was the stained-glass sky dome.
One student spoke before the others could ask the question:
"But what are we gunna---"
The anticipation had built up to much.
Before any of the gathered students could respond in kind, the Professor's right hand shot out and balled into a fist before it slammed down hard onto the shimmering red button.
In a split second, the black-out weather covering that was in place to protect the glass ceiling snapped away into its sheath.
The dome itself split in two with a soft, and a faint choruses of twisting and turning parts and gears within the tall walls of the observatory-like classroom.
As all of this was happening, Aetheral "belts" shot from the cracks between the wood at the children's feet.
Before any of them could react, the were all strapped firmly -and safely- into their chairs.
All of the students screamed in unison.
Just then, the entire room shifted and rotated a foot to the left with a start before it and everything inside of it shot upward at such speeds that not a single child could have seen it coming, nor could any of them have know how to react or process such a thing as an entire room elevating itself to nearly six stories above the school at such an astonishing speed.
Professor Rushe was nearly doubled over with laughter, he leaned over the edge of his desk and cradled his stomach so deep was his fits of glee.
The whole of the class turned to him in stunned silence as the wind whipped about them, sending dozens of notes and papers flying about the room.
It was the Elf's turn to pick up on the social que, and so he did.
With a series of snapes, the wind in the room seemed to suddenly bend to his will.
He flicked his wrist here and there, and with it, everything that had been blown about seemed to return back to its rightful place, and stay there.
"My deepest apologies!"
He laughed but he spoke genuinely.
"While I typically save such an experience for the Y3's and 4's, you all seemed quite up to the thrill this morning!"
With that, the stage was set.
Now just over 150 feet from the ground, high above the rooftops of all of the other campus buildings, Professor Rushe was ready for is demonstration.
He would do Hellinbrachyn proud.
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I hope you all are happy and healthy, and I will see you back here at the gates to Enverdolmal soon enough!
Till then, safe travels folks.
Especially in our new world.
Stay safe.
Stay healthy.
Stay vigilant.
-Redd.