On the open ocean, leaving the sea between the continent and the island of Menesucia, sailed a ship. On its sails bellowed a puffin bearing a piece of amber in its beak, the crest of House Dwyllaigh. The galleon was filled with soldiers, a pledge to an Exalted Academy, but there was one passenger, a girl, or young woman, with short golden curls and blue eyes, having her short nose buried in a book that rested on her knees drawn close, between a crate and barrel on the aft deck, where she was unharassed by the wind yet had sun to read; that was, until a soldier stepped in front of her and saluted.

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“Lady Carolinia, the spire of Halonnes has come into clear view. You wished to be notified!”

Carryl looked up and slapped her book shut with one hand. She stood up, bowed her head and spoke with duty. “Grace be to you.” Then she hurried to the fore of the ship. She held on the railing and leaned forward. In the north, to their left, poked a white needle above the horizon. She turned to the helmsman at the aft and yelled. “When will we be there? Before sundown?”

The helmsman shook his head. “I am sorry, m’Lady, but it will still be a while.”

But Carryl looked ahead with fire in her eyes. She would get to see the spectacle from the deck of a ship, as it was meant to.

With each passing hour, the spire rose higher above the horizon, the ship turned further towards the city that soon followed. White limestone towers with green and grey roofs and domes, pillared and spiralling they rose against the pull of the ground. The harbour gates of dark wood and bronze bracings stood open and further and further Carryl saw the elaborate spire rising in the centre of it all. The paintings, the drawings, the woodcuts and copper engravings all did no justice to the true majesty. A white limestone needle atop pointed arches atop pointed arches atop pointed arches atop... Carryl could not count them all at this distance, but soon enough, the sun neared the horizon and the sky grew dimmer and so, it finally began.

It was at first a faint glow, barely visible against the burning orange of the sun reflected by the stone, but as the darkness crept on and redness deepened, the white glow emanating from the spire became brighter and more apparent. The light turned into a blur as the steam rose from the limestone surface and bellowed into clouds following the shape of the spire upwards. The glowing white rose further and further above the spire into the skies until it hit the place where true clouds resided and flooded the sky as water floods a plain into a still lake of dim glow hovering above the city, bathing the houses, lands and waters beneath in soft whiteness, rivalling the moon had it been in the sky behind a cloud.

For hundreds of miles the spectacle was visible and just the night before, Carryl had marvelled at its distant hint from afar, seeing where the city lay and knowing that they were on the right path. She basked in the soft light for so long that when another soldier approached her, the light of the sun had vanished entirely.

“Lady Carolinia, we are nearing port, do you wish us to bring your luggage up deck?”

Carryl turned around only for a moment. “What? Oh yes, please do, grace be to you.”

The soldier stepped away and it took Carryl a moment before realization crashed onto her face. She turned around and ran after the soldier. “NO WAIT!” She caught him just before the door to her private berth. “I shall do it myself. Grace be to you, still.” She opened the door just a slit and squeezed inside. After closing the door tight, she fished a small pendant from beneath her dress. It was a crystal vial, in a facetted cut bearing many glyphs engraved into the hardest of all crystals, an unburnt wick protruding from a reservoir of a dark-blue iridescent oil. She flicked the flint wheel at the rim once, twice, then finally, it happened, a white, smokeless, heatless flame sprung forth at the wick’s tip and illuminated the room before Carryl, letting her see just what the luxury of being undisturbed had allowed her to commit.

Articles of clothing lay strewn across the floor, the lid of her coffer stood open, a plate with crumbs of ship’s biscuit and gingerbread stood on the nightstand next to a cup with dried remnants of vinegar wine, piles of open and bent books lay on the bed and the sheets were thrown halfway across the tiny berth from when she had gotten out that morning. Carryl sighed.

She started picking up the mess by the armfuls and just dropping them into her coffer, pressing down with increasing force and finishing it off by slamming the coffer shut, sitting on the lid and bolting the lock. Now it was time to haul the thing back up the stairs. She dragged it by one of the handles out the door and towards the stairs. With much pulling, she managed to get it one step and by then, a few soldiers wishing to get past had already gathered behind her. She did not manage a second step before two of them picked the coffer from her hands with a quick “Allow us, m’Lady.” And were up stairs before Carryl managed to bring forth a “Grace be to ...you.”

She spent the rest of the journey sitting on her coffer, watching the galleon enter the harbour. There the city of Halonnes sat, on a tall foundation of stone, rising in three huge steps almost 100 feet above the river Daune’s mouth. In the centre of the harbour basin stood sentinel island, on which the Salt Spire stood with half its legs, the other four being founded in the four main quarters of the city: to Carolinia's left: the campus and the surrounding scholar’s district, west of the harbour entrance; to her right, the harbour district; further back the temple’s and the merchant’s district. The galleon laid anchor at the docks closes to the campus, where a set of steep stairs led upwards. The soldiers carried her coffer to the end of the pier, then made their way to the barracks to rest. As two of them saw Carryl sitting there, in the light of the Salt Spire’s cloud above them, they approached her.

“M’Lady, are you not accompanied by Lord Roibert?”

Carryl sighed. “It seems he has not yet arrived.”

“Then we shall stay to guard you until he does.”

Carryl tried to ward them off, tell them to rest as they deserved, but they insisted and so stood guard with their halberds crossed in front of Carryl.

She watched the busy city around her. By the dim light little brighter than the full moon, many revellers swayed across the pavement from establishments that were of a higher standard than their proximity to the harbour would suggest. More than once she saw a student of the University of Halonnes enter or leave, recognizable by their robes in the colours of this Academy, white with a double trim in bright green and sky blue, a sash in blue, a cap in the same colours and felt mantle of blue, kept short for the summer. A few of those students came awfully close in their drunken stupor, one boy even throwing Carryl a few friendly waves and calls, but being quickly halted by the guards of House Dwyllaigh taking a single step forward and tilting their halberds forwards just the least of bits.

Soon, an entire squad of guards in tabards of the same colours as the students’ robes came down the stairs from the campus above, heading straight for the noble lady. Her own guards stepped aside to let them address her.

The eldest of the soldiers, sporting a carefully kept grey moustache stepped forward to her and saluted, then spoke. “I am Captain Frederique of the Exalted Forces. We are sent by Commandant Roibert-Arretent to accompany Madame Carolinia of House Dwyllaigh to the dormitory of Cyrrgwarth. The Commandant himself has been inconvenienced by other duties and cannot attend.”

Carryl sighed deeply and got up from her coffer. It seemed her brother had abandoned his one duty to the house he had in years. She turned to the soldiers of her house. “Grace be to you for your excellent service, please retire to your barracks now."

The two saluted first her, than the other soldiers, then did as they were bidden. Carryl turned to the captain. “Please, lead the way, Captain.” Two of the squad took the coffer and followed her as she followed Frederique up the stairs to the scholar’s district.

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The houses right outside the campus walls were among the tallest in the city, reaching nine, ten, eleven floors above the ground, demonstrating the might and intellect of the builders and inhabitants. Not just few of them were dormitories, flying the flag of their nation outside. Etuse, Siarbeann, Pliran, and eventually, also Cyrrgwarth, green and blue with a grey trim, symbolizing the green leas upon grey rocks that defied the blue waves of that harshest of Ackarom’s kingdoms.

Carryl knocked on the door and was greeted by a familiar face.

“CARRYL!” Cousin Sunny beamed. Her straight blonde hair had been done into an elaborate braid, her apron was stained but her blue dress underneath spotless. “We were worried you would not make it in time.”

Captain Frederique saluted as the soldiers set down Carryl’s coffer. “Lady of the Dorm Siangwen, we report our duty fulfilled.”

Sunny looked past them. “Is Roibert not with you? He was supposed to be with you!”

Before the captain could respond, Carryl had done so. “No, apparently he has been inconvenienced by something.”

Sunny rolled her eyes, then she made a bow to the captain. “You are relieved, Captain, your duty to the League has been good.”

The soldiers turned around and left, after the door had fallen shut, Sunny started to ggrumble. “That absolute audacity. I was at his office yesterday, to make sure he was aware of his duty!” Then she closed her eyes and put a friendly smile on again. “Either way, Carryl, you came just in time, the ceremony is tomorrow. Let me get you a famulus for your luggage.”

She turned back into the hallway beyond the entrance and called out. “Wynnford, get here!” And shortly after a boy not much older than Carryl appeared, wearing the robes of a student but a grey tabard denoting him as a higher servant. On his right hand he worse a fingerless leather glove and held a short cane with a clear, simple crystal in its handle.

Cousin Sunny reached for her belt where a spare booklet hung, flipped through the paper pages and ripped one out. On it were visible a series of geometric shapes, patterns and glyphs connecting them. She handed it to Wynnford and said “Get Carryl’s luggage up to room 23, please.” as she did, Carryl could see on the back of her right hand a set of lines, hair-fine, glowing in fluid colours and pulsing in the beat of Sunny’s heart. They formed the seal of the Exalted University of Halonnes, three open and crowned books surrounded by seven seven-pointed stars on a brickwork background within a circle. It was her proof of a degree from this institution and her license to cast magic. Carryl could feel the proximity to this herself, but yet a wide chasm remained.

Wynnford bowed to Sunny, nodded to Carryl and slapped the piece of paper on her coffer, snapped his finger and it was consumed by a flame without heat, smoke or colour that left the wood unsinged and at first, the coffer seemed unchanged, but when Wynnford struck it with the head of his cane, it floated the slightest distance up as if suspended from the pull of the ground. He pushed the coffer on towards the circular stairwell, where the stairs spiralled around an empty shaft dominated by a wooden platform. He waited for Carryl to step on, then took a fistful of that dark powder from a pouch on his belt, placed the cane on the platform with his other and moved it like a lever whereupon the platform began moving upwards.

On Wynnford’s glove, Carryl saw the same emblem as on Sunny’s hand, but brazed into the leather rather than induced into her skin. It was this student’s preliminary license and it was well within assumption that he was helping Sunny and the actual famulus out to improve his allowance.

On the second floor, the two got off and Wynnford handed Carryl a bronze key with a 23 stamped on and pointed her in the right direction, then followed her along.

She entered the room and immediately saw a dark, naked back of a girl. That girl turned around and gasped with surprise. She immediately raised her arms again to cover her front with the blouse still in her hands.

“WYNNIE, OUT!” The girl screamed and took a step back.

Carryl heard the door slam behind her, then Wynnford yelled through it. “I am sorry, fellow Charge of the Exalted.”

“You must be my roommate.” The girl said. Her skin was dark, darker than anything Carryl had ever expected to see in Cyrrgwarth, but her inflection and pronunciation was definitely that of a commoner raised in that land. “I’m Meredith, but you can call me Merry.” The girl put the blouse back on. “You really should have knocked, y’know!”

Carryl was still struck with surprise, looking at the girl in front of her. Her hair was in even finer curls than her own and reached down to her shoulders, her face was round and soft and her nose was broad, against the dark of her skin, the white of her eyes and teeth shone brightly. “I am sorry, I did not realize I had a roommate to begin with.” Carryl finally brought forth. “But I guess I should have expected it.” She chastised herself, remembering the stories of campus life told to her by her siblings and cousins.

Meredith chuckled. “I guess we’re all new here, aren’t we?” She yelled back through the door. “You can come back in, Wynnie.” She turned to Carryl. “What’s your name then?”

Wynnford came back in. “I am pleased to introduce to you Carolinia of House Dwyllaigh, Meredith.” He pushed Carryl’s coffer into the room the last few feet where he tapped its top with his cane and dropped it back into the influence of gravity. “This is Meredith of Aeoldonys. You will be spending your time together from now on, please arrange yourself with each other.”

At the mention of Carryl’s house, Meredith’s face lit up. “Ooooh, a noble of House Dwyllaigh, I am so honoured.”

Wynnford raised his hand. “Please, no rank or nobility among those equally exalted by this institution.”

“Oh right,” Meredith corrected herself, checked her clothes. “Still, thank you, Noble of House Dwyllaigh.”

Wynnford inhaled and raised his hand to speak, but Meredith started pushing him out of the room.

“Yes, yes, I know, now get out, Wynnie, some girls want to get ready for bed.”

Despite being pushed out, he still managed to tell them “Breakfast is at the seventh hour, the ceremony for new students begins at the eighth, be sure to be up and ready! You robes are in the wardrobe” Then Meredith slammed the door shut.

Meredith grinned at Carryl. “He’s kinda cute though, Isn’t he.” She did not wait for an answer. “So as he said, I’m Meredith, but you can call me Merry.” She smiled and swayed back and forth on her feet.

“Pleased, but I think it more appropriate to go by Meredith and Carolinia for now, shall we?” Carryl looked around the room. On each side of the door stood a bed, a set of drawers, a wardrobe, a chair and a desk and only one shared piece of furniture: a tall standing mirror. A window of thick glass showed a distortion of the brick wall of the next house across a tight alley. It all looked well-used but sturdy. Carryl’s house sure had made an investment into serviceability. The left side of the room was still free so Carryl dragged her coffer there. She had not gotten to sorting her dirty from her clean clothes when Meredith spoke up again.

“I’m mighty thankful to your house, y’know. It was King Maoldonaich III. Who enabled me to roll in here.”

Carryl, still facing her coffer, raised an eyebrow. “You mean enrol, do you not?”

“Oh yes, that. I’m sorry, I’m not so good with all the words here. Campus, Commilitones, famulus, all that stuff. I guess you grew up with it, didn’t ya?”

“You are a commoner, I take it?”

Meredith giggled at that. “Yes I am.” She swelled her breast and struck a pose like an actor of the theatre stage. “Daughter of Gwenneth the seamstress and Uhuru the sailor, proud recipient of the Scholarship for the betterment of his people granted by King Maoldonaich the III of House Dwyllaigh.”

It made more sense to Carryl now. She wanted to respond to Meredith about that, but held her peace.

“That’s why I’m so thankful to your house. Without the King’s generosity, I wouldn’t get to study, to learn magic.” She snapped her finger in a mockery of mages. “Oh I can’t wait to finally get to, don’t you too?”

Carryl thought for a moment. The few still sufficiently clean clothes were sorted out from the others. “Yes, actually I am. We should get sleep soon.” She took off her travelling dress and went to the wardrobe. Inside, she found two student’s robes in her size. She had not thought it would happen, but joy jumped excitedly in her chest.

Meredith again spoke up from behind her. “You should try them on. They feel great and the cloth is really smooth.”

Carryl did exactly that, then checked herself in the mirror. The robes sat well and were exactly the right length, ending just above her knees. The linen was sturdy and thick but not scratchy, the colours were radiant, the seams were unmistakably well placed. The brimless cap had some issues with her springy hair.

“Oh you look absolutely marvellous, Carolinia.” Meredith enticed by Carryl’s appearance.

Carryl too had to admit that the robes were exactly as she had imagined them. Memories of cousins and siblings at festivities wearing them as they were home on vacation, refusing to take them off and proud to display their university. She had marvelled at these, how much they learned, how eagerly they showed off the magic they had learned, how highly they were praised for their achievements. Now she wore one. She had not even been on the campus but she already felt that she had arrived at university. “Of course, I was born to wear these robes, they are my birth right.”

Meredith set out to say something, but a repeated gonging from outside interrupted her. “Oh, that’s the eleventh bell since noon, we better settle to bed.”

Carryl nodded and exchanged the student’s robe with her nightgown, but she did not find sleep quickly that night. The thoughts of her future on campus kept her wondering, her mind active, playing out many possibilities to the tiniest detail, but in the end, she remembered her flame. If she just was patient and kept moving forward and her goal in her sights, she would get there, no doubt.