Chapter 167:
Anton breathed the fresh air rolling down from Mount Aspire, though tainted somewhat light wisps of smoke rising from the small mining camp. Anton chose to take the long way back, pass over everything with a different eye. Thankfully they found no hidden pathways or more dead Insects or Dwarves.
The mine workers, some Beast-kin, toiled endlessly to dig up the coal and iron needed to keep Atros growing strong. Those Beastkin, almost all were of the larger variety, had no problem working in such conditions, even if they were probably similar to those in Seocuria. With less beatings and shouting. When someone alerted the miners to their presence they readied their pickaxes and shovels but relaxed immediately upon realising it wasn't a small horde of Goblins or Rock Rats emerging from the depths.
“What a nice little excursion.” Verona stretched her arms over her head. “Who knew something like that existed below our feet.”
“Would you have moved Atros if you knew?” Anton asked.
“Probably…Probably.” Verona nodded. She held his arm tight. “But with you by our side, I’m not worried.”
“Worst we just throw it into the lava.” Kal smiled.
“True…” Anton turned to the Dark Elves. “Thank you for your help today. I understand that it wasn’t much but I still wish to convey my thanks. You can return to your homes now, just be careful on the journey back.”
The Dark Elves bowed their heads and began the trek back. It would take a while to return but stretching their legs, and taking in the light would be good for them. The twins remained behind, sparing glances to the other Dark Elves of their clan but receiving none in return.
“With the Dwarves staying behind to prepare the habitation block…” Anton sighed. “And remove the bodies, we’ve still got a few days before Wilford arrives.”
“I think you should head to Graterious,” Verona said. “You've got the writ from Cassius so I think you should use it. You know, before he decides that keeping you neutral isn't worth the price...He did get a few prisoners out of it. Your special project will require a little more time, since we don’t have enough Dwarves yet, so we should get some more mages.”
“It’s too random and unreliable to wait upon the Old Gods to bless us with their powers…” Anton nodded. “A good idea. But the nearest portal is in Sebo, in Seocuria. So…”
“Means I can’t go.” Rasha sighed. “I’ll stay here and keep Atros safe.” Rasha slapped her large muscular arms, hidden underneath her metal and Arachnid silk armour. “At the very least I can lift some logs.”
“You’re worth much more than that.” Anton smiled. Rasha smiled back, Verona sniggered and nudged Kal’s side. “Verona, Kal? Do you want to come?"
Kal shook her head. "I'd love to travel but the Academy is in the capital. And they aren't just going to let someone wearing a mask, in a group that's going to look very suspicious, just to wander through."
"Of course I'm going." Verona thrust out her chest. "And so is your human bodyguard. It'll feel weird if it's just the two of us again."
"I've never seen a Seocurian city myself." Calo shared a nod with her sister. "Are they good places to visit?"
"They are," Verona replied. "So long as you can stand them being so cruel to their slaves."
Both twins fell silent.
"I wonder how the border is going to treat us." Anton mused, turning and beginning to walk towards Atros. The small city was no longer small, many layers of stone and wood walls radiated from the large open area at the centre with hundreds of faint smoke trails wafting into the cloudy sky.
“But I’m sure that we’re going to be in for a fun adventure, right?”
Those that would be travelling with him didn’t look too convinced.
---[]---
Someone was waiting for their return immediately outside of Atros’s outer stone wall, a low wall surrounding the new and rapidly expanding Dark Elf quarters. An eight-legged Beast-kin, an Arachnid, their only Arachnid, stood patiently to the side of the main thoroughfare, now marked with a row of wooden stakes topped with a tassel of bright fabric gently flapping in the wind. Ulyaa, her brown skin positively glowed in the light, fidgeted with her hair, the front two of her eight legs tapped on the ground in a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Ulyaa waved heartily as they approached. “They said you’d gone north, but I didn’t really think they meant you went into the mountain.” She nodded to the Dark Elf warriors already dispersing to their clans. “At least that’s what they said.”
“The Dark Elves treating you alright?” Anton asked. Calo and Sheso looked a little nervous.
Ulyaa nodded. “They are. But I think they’re only paying attention up here.”
Ulyaa pointed to her chest, her face devoid of any ill intent, before she realised her mistake. She laughed and pointed at her face.
“Up here. Well, some are I think. But they’re keeping all their attention away from this.” Ulyaa patted her spider rear. “I think it’s a little disturbing for them.”
“We’re just going to have to ask you to endure.” Anton smiled. “It’ll change in time.”
“Did something happen in Atros?” Kal asked. “Wouldn’t you normally be working in the fields? Not that I’m saying you need to-”
Ulyaa chuckled, waving down Kal’s words. “I asked for a little time and they gave it to me. I’ve already done most of what I need to this morning. I wanted to give you all this.”
Ulyaa reached behind her back and presented four Arachnid silk shirts.
“I asked the seamstresses to make these.” Ulyaa passed them out, checking a small mark on the collar. “They really like my silk, just don’t like talking where it comes from.”
“Is that a normal way Arachnids carry things?” Anton asked, Ulyaa cutely tilted her head. “They didn’t force you to carry stuff on your…body?”
“Oh no.” Ulyaa rubbed a leg one back from the front. “I’m not that strong. Sometimes it makes things easier to move about. Like this. It’s not heavy. And no, no one’s asked me to do that.”
Anton gently stretched the material. It was just as strong as Ulyaa’s silk shirt; very stretchy but didn’t tear or fray no matter how hard he pulled. It would be disrespectful to try and tear it in front of Ulyaa. Besides, he trusted its strength and didn’t need another demonstration.
“Thanks, Ulyaa.” Anton neatly folded his up. “We’ll put this on later.”
Verona raised a brow as she inspected hers far more closely. “It’s not weird for us to wear something that came from you?”
“Not…Not really.” Ulyaa smiled, clasping her hands together and resting them against her lap. “One of the seamstresses wanted to know how it actually came out of me. That was…An interesting conversation.”
“I certainly hope it was a woman,” Anton said softly.
Ulyaa laughed, fighting down the red creeping up her ears. “So are you all off again? I can sort of see the look in your eyes.”
“I’m afraid so.” Anton looked to the sky. “I’d like everything to just keep pottering along-”
“Pottering?” Verona asked Kal and Cetina. Both shrugged.
“-But we can’t. Our next destination is the Graterian capital, Boreana, and the associated Royal Academy. Finally get some books on how to use Principle Magic.” Anton glanced to the girls behind him. “I get the feeling Ferula’s busy, or she wants us to stand on our own feet.”
“That doesn’t seem to be in line with what she said.” Kal’s ears pulled back slightly. “If she wants the Kar Kingdom to be reborn…”
“Unless she’s lying.” Verona mused. “You saw how she treated that apprentice girl. She wasn’t ready to fight that necromancer, barely managed to survive and Ferula just…” Verona shrugged. “Told her to get ready for some serious pain.”
“A what?” Ulyaa asked. Rasha, Calo and Sheso shared her surprise and confusion.
“A long story.” Anton smiled. “But one worth telling one day.”
Rasha tapped her halberd. “Are you going to buy books? But that’s not going to be enough, right?” Rasha held her chin in deep thought. “You need someone to show you. So…How are you going to get a Principle Mage back here?”
“A place full of Beast-kin.” Ulyaa sighed, rubbing her spider half. “I’m not even passable as a human…Unless they think humans can have a giant butt.”
“How are we going to do that I wonder?” Verona sniggered, throwing a devilish look to Kal. Kal rolled her eyes while Cetina remained perfectly rigid.
“I think I have an idea,” Anton said dryly. “But we’ll see.”
“Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Verona continued to snigger. “I’m sure those Principle Mages spend a lot of time buried in books.” Verona wrapped Anton’s arm around her. “Then some powerful handsome man comes along and sweeps her away-”
“We’ll see.” Anton ruffled her head. “I don’t think I can just sweep someone away from their lives with just my charming words and a lovely smile.”
Ulyaa and Rasha smiled, though Ulyaa glanced at Cetina, still completely rigid.
“Why are you so tense, Cetina?”
“I…No reason.”
Ulyaa’s smile began to mimic Verona’s. “Oh…Wow. You’re actually…”
“What?” Rasha’s eyes darted between the two. Cetina remained perfectly still, Ulyaa simply laughed.
“If you don’t know then I won’t tell you.”
Rasha snorted dismissively. “I hate not know what’s happening. Anton, what are they talking about?”
“Another time,” Anton said. Verona laughed and wormed a finger underneath his shirt. “But, back on track, once we do find someone willing to travel here we’re going to need everyone that’s got a decent amount of mana to start practising. I don’t expect everyone to be able to do what I do…But even weak mages can be pretty dangerous.”
Some middling mages could have almost killed me…
“And, Ulyaa, since you’ve got one of the highest amounts of mana I wanted to ask if you wanted to become a Principle Mage.”
“Me?” Ulyaa pointed at her chest, then to her spider body. “You want me. Me. To become a mage?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“No.” Ulyaa scratched her head. “I…I don’t know what to say. Me? Able to throw fireballs and lightning around like you?"
“Among other things.” Verona nodded. “Principle Mages can do a lot more than we can, though they need to practice a lot more. It’s a trade-off, but I think a good one.”
Verona grumbled, scratching at the red marks licking at her chin. “At least you won’t go mad if you drink a drop of blood."
Ulyaa ran a hand through her long black hair, the other fidgeting nervously. “Well, I can’t read.”
“We can solve that,” Anton said. “It’s not that difficult to learn."
“We just need to actually focus on learning how to do it,” Verona mumbled softly.
“Okay…” Ulyaa chuckled. “I’ll give it a go. I won’t be intruding on anyone’s territory, will I?”
“Why would you think that?” A quick bump from Verona reminded him of the implications. “No. I don’t think you would be. Besides, it would really help me to see a Beast-kin mage. A very good image, here and for the future.”
Stories of a Beast-kin mage would definitely spread quickly amongst the slaves of Seocuria. Maybe help prepare for our liberation.
“Right…” Ulyaa’s eyes darted to the ground. “What about Eider? How was her magic?”
“She doesn’t have much.” Anton shrugged lightly. “Like most people. But tell her that her venom will be incredibly useful once we get my special project working.”
“Poison things?” Verona asked. “I’ve seen the drawings but I don’t quite get it still.”
“You will understand the moment that you see it.” Anton smiled. “But this can be done right now.”
“Not much to do here other than make sure the Dark Elves settle in.” Kal looked at Calo and Sheso. “But they seem to be doing alright, for now at least. Let’s see how they go when all the clans start arriving in large numbers.”
Calo nodded. “It should be alright. They know that the Green Moon, I mean us, didn’t want this to happen in the first place.”
Sheso averted her eyes towards the ground, kicking at the dry grass. “We didn’t want almost everyone we know to be killed.”
“We’ll leave as soon as we are ready.” Anton clapped his hands, startling many. “While we’re gone, Kal, can you try and teach Ulyaa and Rasha how to read? Rasha doesn’t have much mana in her but the more people that know how to read the better.”
“I’ll do my best,” Rasha said softly.
Kal leant up and kissed Anton. “Make sure you come back during the night. I don’t want to be left alone while you three are carousing through Seocuria and Graterious.”
Anton kissed her back. “Of course. We’ll leave…Tomorrow. Doesn’t feel right leaving just so soon after getting back.”
“And we were supposed to be taking it easier.” Verona pointed to the clouds hanging over Atros, hiding the weak blue sky. “It’ll start snowing soon too. I’d love to be back in Atros when it does start to fall.”
“I haven’t seen snow before either.” Anton paused. “Or have I…”
The mind splitting headache struck again, driving him to double over and clutch his chest in a desperate attempt to breathe. Everyone rushed to his side, though not all understood what was happening.
“Another one?” Verona asked, worry drenching her face.
“Yeah.” Anton gently held her hand. “Guess I can’t think too hard about…”
“I’m fine.” Anton smiled and raised his hands. “See? Regardless, we need to get ready. Better that we keep moving rather than linger on unnecessary worries.”
Again everyone didn’t look entirely convinced but Anton wasn’t about to continue the conversation. As ever his personal memories before arriving in this world were essentially off limits. He didn’t want to ponder, lest he received the slight pangs of a constricting heart, at what it was hiding. No one spoke a word about it for the rest of the day.
---[]---
Boreana, the capital city of Graterious lay before Anton, Verona and Cetina arrived in. The journey was uneventful, the border between Seocuria and Graterious was defined not by a wall but a simple river, one side dry and arid the other lush and green. After paying a handful of copper coins they were allowed through, not once did either the Seocurian or Graterious guards check them or their belongings. If Kal had joined them it probably would have been far more difficult, it was the right decision for her to remain in Atros, though he didn’t mind returning to Atros and surprising Kal in their home. Once past the border they simply rode past the cities and towns to reach Boreana as quickly as possible.
Boreana was absolutely massive, so large that it took Anton several seconds to properly understand what he was seeing. The city extended for miles, far larger than Clausonne, surrounded by massive white walls with a castle, possibly larger than the entirety of Clausonne, resting in the centre on top of a large hill. Rather than resting it completely encompassed the hill. White spires, great banners flapping in the wind, adorned the perimeter of the internal castle walls. Anton’s eyes were drawn to another set of spires next to a river running through the city. It appeared to be an ideal location for a magical academy.
“I wonder if mages here have a propensity to build giant towers.” Anton chuckled. “To conduct all sorts of nefarious experiments.”
“Is this a thing from Earth?” Verona asked. “I thought you said magic wasn’t a thing there.”
“It’s not. But, sometimes we like to hope and pretend.”
They re-joined the thick stream of merchants, traders and peasants travelling to the city. Again the decision for Kal to remain in Atros was proven correct; people jostled for space, many trying to ride and run around slower caravans and carts. Anton felt something brush against his leg. A thief was trying to open his pack. His hand touched the buckle and his body turned completely rigid before falling onto the dry dirt road. Someone behind shouted loudly, their horse rearing in protest to the sudden pull on its reins before stomping on the young man. Anton didn’t stop or look back, the thief had made his choice.
As they approached the city gates the columns of travellers began to slow to an absolute crawl. Just like Porswea the exterior of the city was home to a slum city, though this was far better maintained than Porswea’s, simply because of its proximity to the seat of power. Heavily armoured soldiers patrolled the lines of travellers, only to keep the peace and those from the slum away. These looked nearly identical to those at Porswea, except more heavily armoured and wearing purple instead of red. Food, equipment and women, and more disturbingly young girls and boys, were offered up to the waiting columns. Anton chose a few cooked pieces of meat, double checked they all had a poison immunity enchantment, and paid the young man well. Unfortunately, this proved to be a slight mistake as they were immediately flooded with hawkers with all manner of goods and items thrust towards them. They quickly relented when they realised it was only going to be one purchase.
“Any day now.” Anton murmured.
Cetina chuckled. “It’s not that bad. It’s a lot faster than it was in Porswea.”
Anton waited for the inventible shudder of recollection but it never came. He didn’t want to say that she was getting over it, but it was a massive improvement. Part of him hoped it wasn’t because he was bedding her.
Cetina glanced to her side and kicked away a young person trying to approach her pack.
“Cetina? That special box. Is it back home or do you have it with you?”
“I put it in the treasury.” Cetina leant back, a slight frown on her face and tapped the pack. “Yep. It’s back there.”
“Were you thinking of having a Principle Mage have a look at it?” Verona leant over.
“Just a thought.” Anton shrugged. “But I’m sure the…Bad people would find it in a few seconds. They had Lord Cassius under their thrall, after all.” Anton held his chin. “Come to think of it, we can’t be sure if it was Ferula or her followers that actually did that.”
“No one should be touching the thing until we figure out more about it anyway,” Cetina said resolutely.
“Move forward.” A soldier waved them towards one of the many branches of travellers breaking away from the main column, some kind of inspection point before the gate. “We don’t have all day for you.”
Anton wanted to quip something but kept his trap shut. The guards brought them to a halt, immediately moving to Anton.
“What is the purpose of your visit?” His tone was not demanding, just that they appeared to be nothing more than vagabonds. Well-dressed but essentially still drifters.
“I have a writ allowing me access to the Royal Academy,” Anton spoke calmly but firmly as he passed over the roll of paper.
The soldiers gingerly took the document, just in case Anton was telling the truth, and quickly scanned the contents. He gave a curt nod and returned the paper.
“Look for the second group of white spires. You can’t miss it.” The soldier raised his mailed hand again. “And don’t think about using any magic inside Boreana, if you’re a mage. Unless you want the Magic Corp to come and get you. And you don’t want that.”
It makes sense they would have something like that. Hell, that’s what I’m trying to make.
“That won’t be a problem.”
Didn’t someone say the Emperor had Griffons and Drakes? Dragons? Definitely not someone I want to get on their bad side. No wonder Cassius wants us to join him.
The soldier waved them through, seemingly content to believe everything else upon them was safe. People filled the streets, moving in great waves all jostling for space. Though they were wide the sheer number of people made navigation tricky. Anton didn’t want to dismount and be swamped by the tides of humanity, their horse’s bulk was more than enough to force their way through. Multiple story buildings surrounded them as they pushed through city blocks that were arranged in near perfect squares, the smells of cooking food filled the air along with other sweeter and more exotic smells. Verona visibly restrained and told herself that they would have a chance later. The river running through Boreana, running from the west to the east, was…disgusting. The smell wasn’t bad but the colour of the water left much to be desired. He looked up the wide, dirty river, some small boats travelled along like gondolas, and saw the river upstream was perfectly clear. Small drains led from the brick walls forming the edges of the river, all with small trickles of raw sewage draining into the once pristine water.
Such a waste of nature’s beauty. Not much they can do about it if they want this many people in one place.
“Are we going to stop here for the night?” Verona asked as they neared the Royal Academy. “Get a comfy little bed for us…” Verona snapped her fingers. “Still haven’t got that bed from The Shadow Isles. You’d love it, Cetina. So much more comfortable than what we have.” Verona sniggered. “So much better when we’re bouncing around.”
Cetina coughed, trying to push away such emotions and memories. Anton knew that she was more than willing once her buttons had been pressed.
“Actually…” Anton looked to the Royal Academy then to the castle, really a giant palace. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, at least not yet. If they can tell that we’re using magic inside the city then they’ll probably know we’re using the portal. Even if it’s something different for Glyph to Principle magic they’ll know something’s going on.”
“Damn.”
“Which also means no presents.” Anton chuckled. “At least nothing big. Maybe a few pieces of jewellery. Something nice for everyone.”
“Could…” Cetina gently tapped just below her neck.
“I’ll get you a nice necklace.” Anton smiled. “A seashell on a piece of string really isn’t something that I should be giving out to someone like you.”
“It’s the thought that counts.” Verona laughed. “But you probably should get something a little better. Something that’ll really make sure your new concubines are loyal.”
“Concubines?” Anton asked. “As in multiple?”
Verona laughed. “Yep.”
Anton made note of several expensive jewellery stores and other places where he might be able to find some beautiful gifts. Seeing their smiles was worth it.
The shops began to change as they approached the Royal Academy. Gone were the everyday useful items, now books, items and materials that looked like they could be useful in preparing magic filled the large glass windows. There were no criers this far, the people travelling these areas appeared to be very rich or were some sort of mage, they looked very similar to the mages from Porswea; a loose brightly coloured robe with a rope tied around their waist. Groups of all ages mingled amongst one another, at least on a cursory glance there wasn’t any discrimination based around age.
As the Royal Academy came into view Anton grumbled, bringing their horses to a halt. The gate, the only visible entrance in the large wall surrounding the academy, was protected by a wall of heavily armoured Boreana soldiers. Their shield and weapons shone with an unnatural light. Magic.
“Just in case there are any unruly mages.” Anton chuckled. “I wonder if we can buy any.”
“I imagine they’ll cost a fortune.” Cetina mused. “If they’ll even let you buy them. Buying a sword or crossbow is one thing but something like that…They could be the same as a noble’s families heirlooms.”
“Once they’ve been made they…Do they need maintenance?” Anton received only light shrugs. “Something to keep track of with Shawn and Jocelyn’s weapons. Don’t want them running out in a fight.”
Anton manoeuvred them to the side of the main thoroughfare of traffic and dismounted their horses. It would be incredibly rude to simply ride up and expect free passage, the least they could do is be a little humble.
The soldiers watched them approach, Anton with the roll of paper in his hands, while they let the mages through unmolested.
A soldier raised his hand, the mailed glove shone lightly. “Access is restricted to the Royal Academy. Unless you have business inside I must ask you to turn around.”
Anton unfurled Cassius’s writ. “I have the documentation to enter.”
The soldier read the writ, far more carefully than the guards outside. His finger tapped near the bottom.
“And I take it you are Anton?”
“Indeed I am.”
“But it only mentions you…”
“These are my travelling companions.” Anton smiled.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The guard took a final glance at the writ before returning it to Anton. “Very well. You have permission to enter. There are stables to your right, please don’t bring your horses any deeper into the Royal Academy. Your property will be protected.”
“Thank you.”
The guards stepped to one side and allowed them passage. Giant marble buildings greeted them once inside, tall and beautiful edifices that teemed with life, almost all of which were mages, mostly young mages. Anton spied some that looked like maids and other assistants trailing behind those that looked particularly rich with their heads cast down low as they carried books or magical items. Some even carried their master’s staff’s and charms, something without all Principle Mages would be effectively useless.
The stable was equally as grand. A pair of guards patrolled the entrance, a myriad of people behind taking care of their beasts. Again some horses had private security, security that eyed them suspiciously as they passed.
“Do you want me to stay with the horses?” Cetina asked. “I don’t like the idea of leaving them alone.
“I think you should come with us,” Anton spoke softly. “I’d prefer that we travel in a group, in a place with so many potential threats. I think I could take a few but probably not a teacher or a Master…well, not easily at any rate.”
Cetina took the pack containing the portal stones and wore it on her back. The rest of their items, while annoying to lose, weren’t vital.
Anton frowned as a thought rolled through his head. “And how exactly do we find someone that’s willing to come with us?”
Verona shrugged. “Do what we did last time and just go with whatever happens. That’s how we got Cetina.”
Cetina raised a brow but said nothing.
“This…This might be a little different to that.” Anton began to scan the buildings for any possible hint of a clue. “These people live here, actually live here and aren’t constantly travelling. So that makes things very different. Why should they just leave for us? Even if it’s just every other day to travel to Atros?”
Anton sighed. “Perhaps we should have a wander through the Academy first, see what we can find? The students might be able to tell us more. Maybe not the rich ones but there must be someone willing to speak with us.”
Something went through Verona’s mind, her brows furrowed for a moment but the thought vanished. Or at least she just wasn’t willing to voice it.
Almost immediately they ran into a small group of mage students. On their collars they wore a single plaque, first-year students. More than enough to begin their search.
“Excuse me.” Anton tried to catch their attention. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Help goes through the back.” A mage replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Or is your employer fancying demented help?”
“What the fuck?” Verona was taken aback.
“At least he has some good taste.” The boy laughed, the others joined in.
Anton smiled. He wanted to hit them but that would do them no good, at least nothing more than a momentary sense of gratification. “I’m looking for a teacher, a lecturer. Do you know where the nearest is?”
The boy scoffed and walked away, his gaggle of friends following closely behind.
Verona blinked dramatically. “I’ll say it again. What the fuck is happening?”
“Compared to them we’re probably quite poor,” Anton said. “Remember the mages in the Basilisk Swamp? They were all sons of nobles or extremely talented. And we…don’t look like any of that.”
Anton rubbed his scruffy beard and long hair, he did look more than a bit rough. Verona was more passable but Cetina looked nothing more than a bodyguard and therefore not important.
“This could take a while.”
The fourth group of student mages was much, much more helpful than the next two, both of which were arrogant and dismissive. It also helped that Verona asked, putting on a face that brought out protective instincts in men, and quite a few women. Unfortunately, as they made their way to their destination, a lecture hall on the second level of one of the large buildings, they were stopped by a small group of mages. The ten men and women were old, not that age mattered much when dealing with magic and spells. Their staffs, with large and grandiose charms on top, not as big as Ferula’s but certainly quite impressive. Anton kept them all in sight, watching for one to start murmuring.
Though Belinda said that speaking the spell just made things easier, it wasn’t required. So they could have magic ready right now and are just waiting for us to make a dumb move.
“What do you three think you’re doing wandering around my Academy?” The lead mage, an old man, slightly stopped with a wizened beared and surprisingly thick grey hair, spoke with a soft but deep voice.
“We’re looking for a Principle Mage, a teacher, but your students have been rather difficult.”
“There’s an understatement,” Verona grumbled.
“They are not used to dealing with…people such as yourself inside this academy.” The man shuffled and tapped his staff lightly. Anton didn’t see any light or sign of magic but he couldn’t be sure. “Who are you looking for?”
“We’re not quite sure.” Anton shrugged, smiling as convincingly as he could. “But…How should I put this? We’re in need of a teacher ourselves.”
“Then you should try in the spring.” The old man lightly tapped his staff again. “New admissions arrive then, the students you see here are remaining over the winter to further their studies. Research and academic works will be done by then…Well, almost all…You can hire one then.”
“And who are you?” Verona asked. “I know Anton’s not going to ask but…”
“Galerius, Headmaster of the Graterious Royal Academy.”
Anton bowed and introduced himself and the girls. Galerius did not look impressed.
“A provincial Graterian, a Clanswoman and a Bebbezzarian.” Galerius chuckled. “An odd mix to come so far.”
“Indeed.” Anton smiled.
“Why did the guards let you in? I’m sure we would have known if you broke through.”
“Against those armoured men, I don’t want to try luck.” Anton produced the writ. “But I have this, granting me access to The Academy. Obviously, it doesn’t let me everywhere but the guards reminded us of that.”
A younger mage delicately took the writ, checking it for some kind of mark of authenticity, and passed it to Galerius. Galerius brought the roll of paper to his charm and began chanting underneath his breath. Verona looked extremely worried but Anton silently told her to relax; the moment they attacked it would be their last moments, no other mage had taken their eyes off them.
Galerius clicked his tongue and ushered the writ to be returned.
“It appears to be genuine.” Galerius shifted his weight to his staff. “I doubt that three, such as yourselves, could fabricate something like this on your own. Still, it does beg the question of how you managed to acquire this from Lord Cassius.”
“He owed us a favour,” Anton replied curtly.
Galerius slowly nodded. “Very well. You have the authority to travel these Academy grounds. But nothing in that writ dictates that we have to help you.”
Ah.
“So long as you don’t harass or intimidate anyone you are free to say.” Galerius smiled. “And see the wonders of the Graterious Royal Academy.”
“Thank you.” Anton bowed deeply. “I know we will enjoy our stay.”
Galerius smirked and trotted away, followed closely by the other mages.
“Now what?” Verona grumbled. “Guess it was a little too easy to get into this place, right?”
“We only asked Cassius to gain access.” Anton lightly clicked his fingers. “Anything more and we’d have to side with him in the upcoming…thing. But there must be someone that we can speak to, someone that’s willing to talk to us.”
“Just show some gold.” Verona shrugged. “That’ll get their attention.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Cetina said softly, glancing over her shoulder. “And I think we’re still being watched. They…They didn’t say anything about my eyepatch. And it’s still working.”
“Perhaps they didn’t know, or they thought that it might be a tad disrespectful to neutralise something that’s allowing you to see.”
Cetina slowly nodded.
“Let’s keep moving, see if we can find someone low on the social ladder.” Anton shrugged. “They might be more willing to listen. Someone ambitious trying to climb the ranks.”
Their search continued for some time but the few teachers and masters they managed to find were clearly not interested, not even interested in politely declining their offer.
Anton sighed as another mage walked away. “Word travels fast here. I wonder if they have something like we do.”
He tapped his wedding ring. “Didn’t say anything about this either.”
Anton turned his head, something twitched his ears. A familiar sound but not something he expected to hear inside a place of learning.
“Do you hear that?” Anton asked.
A faint cry cut through the silence of the Royal Academy, each time punctuated by a faint crack of lightning.
“Sounds like a fight,” Cetina said. “And not a fair one at that.”
“Let’s go.” Anton began walking. “It might be some sort of duel, there might be a teacher we can talk to. Better than doing what we’re currently doing.”
“You know it’s not going to work out that way.” Verona sniggered. “In a place with so many stuck up kids, completely and utterly full of their family’s names…What do you think’s going to happen?”
“I’d just prefer it to be an honest duel.” Anton murmured. “But it’s probably just going to be a one-sided beating.”
Cetina gripped her sword’s handle as they ran towards the noise. Strangely only a few students were following the noise, most simply didn’t care or were going out of their way not to notice, even the teachers. Worrying implications.
“Little bitch.” A female’s voice echoed through the white stone buildings. “You think you’re better than us?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Another cried out, immediately followed by a scream and another crack of lightning.
“Shut up.” The first girl yelled. “Why can you do it on your first try? I’ve been practising for almost an entire season!”
Anton passed the building just as another crack of lightning landed. Three girls stood in a small garden, another lying on the ground, huddled into a ball in a desperate attempt to shield herself. Unlike the three her clothes were torn to shreds, her exposed skin was red and in some spots badly burnt.
The lead girl of the three standing, with a slim staff in her hand, kicked the cowering girl hard in the backside.
“All because your…” She stopped and looked at the shadows cast by Anton. “Who are you?”
Anton glanced around, seemingly infuriating the girl. A few students, and more alarmingly teachers, were well within sight of this assault and did nothing to intervene. Most took clear and obvious effort to avoid noticing.
“I think you should stop,” Anton said softly.
“Here we go.” Verona smiled, quickly fading when she glanced at the cowering girl.
“And who are you?” The girl demanded. “I am-”
“Don’t really care.” Anton stepped forward. "Nor does it matter. But I don’t think you should be bullying someone like that.”
“This has nothing to do with you, peasant.”
“She really wants a spanking, doesn’t she?” Verona chuckled. “Anton’s told me how you defeated that Fire Mage. Want to try that again?”
“My shield?” Cetina raised her brow. “I don’t want to hit a little girl though.”
The young mage’s eye twitched, her followers looked rather nervous.
“You dare threaten me?" She stomped her foot angrily onto the stone ground. "When my father hears about this-"
"Go tell him then." Anton knelt by the cowering girl. "Tell him exactly what you did to her and why. I'm sure he'll be impressed. Now. Go away."
Up close the girl’s wounds weren't as grievous as Anton feared. They weren't great but she would recover relatively quickly, even without his magic.
As Anton took off his cloak, completely ignoring the trio but keeping them well within his sights, the three began to fidget nervously, the lead holding her small staff tight while the other two, remaining well in her shadow, looked ready to leave. Verona folded her arms and nodded to Cetina, and the sword hanging from her waist.
“Unless you want to get spanked.” Verona laughed. “I’m sure your butt would look great glowing bright red.”
"You haven't seen the last of me!" The girl snapped, turning away and flicking her hair dismissively, throwing her nose into the air. "My father and mother will hear about this. Let's see if you're still here by spring after I’ve spoken with them."
She spared a final glance back but quickly continued on her way. Anton realized he was scowling angrily, with one hand on a dagger.
Did they think I was about to fight them?
Anton stood up, brushing the few specks of dirt from his knees.
Maybe she's never had anyone talk back to her? I hope my kids don't end up like that. They'll certainly have the money and name to do it.
Anton offered his hand to the young girl. She remained perfectly still and motionless, apart from her eyes, tracking the trio until they were long gone. With a sigh she rolled onto her rear, thrusting both hands behind her to sit upright. Her front had received comparatively little damage but the pain was clear on her face.
“Thank you.” The girl forcefully smiled, ruffling her short blonde hair. “I didn’t think they’d be that bad today. Usually they’re not so mean to me…”
She tried to stand up but cried out in pain. She scrunched her green eyes, tears running down her lightly freckled face, dusted with patches of white dust from the stone ground. Anton knelt down again, shooting daggers at the few teachers that were content to simply watch the spectacle unfold.
“What’s your name?”
“Axia.” The girl smiled. She pulled the cloak tight around her body. “Thank you. I’ll get a healing later. At least I won’t be walking back naked.”
“Why were those three attacking you?” Verona asked, crouching beside her. Axia glanced at Verona’s chest, the armour couldn’t hide them fully, then flicked up to her face. “Is it because you’re better than them?”
Axia scoffed. She dismissively threw her hand, revealing that her clothes were full of holes. She pulled the cloak around her body tight.
“No. At least I don’t think so. I…Today we were asked to create a level three fireball, as part of a test. I could and they couldn’t. They must’ve thought that I cheated somehow.”
“How could you possibly cheat?” Anton asked. “Is there some way to enhance your abilities beyond your natural talent? Doping? Probably dangerous in the long run.”
“I…I don’t think so.” Axia frowned lightly. “There are meant to be things like that but…You’d know that, right? Oh. Is this like some sort of test?”
She was genuinely excited by the prospect.
“Not really.” Anton smiled faintly. “I’m not a teacher from any academy, even outside of Graterious.”
“You are very strange for a Mage.” Axia blinked twice. “Well…They must have thought that my mother helped me. Not with magical artefacts but with training. Ice and water magic are her speciality, but she can use some fire and earth magic too.”
“That was easy,” Verona mumbled softly through a smile.
Anton gently nodded. “But…If she’s a teacher why isn’t she stopping this?”
Axia frowned lightly.
“I understand that you should be learning to fend for yourself.” Anton pointed to the where burn marks once lay. “But this is a little bit much, even for the most Spartan of parents.”
Axia sighed. “It’s not that she doesn’t want to…At least I think she does. It can be…difficult. Difficult to understand what she’s thinking some times. But a lot of people here are from very rich families, and they can get people removed from the Academy if they want.”
Axia nodded to where the trio headed. “She’s always doing things like that, don’t know if anyone listens...”
Axia pulled the cloak tight, tucked her legs to her chest and shook her head.
“Your mother keeps her head down and just has to watch this happen to you?”
Axia glumly nodded. “It’s okay…” A sadness filled her eyes. “I can’t get her into trouble, no matter what. I don’t think she can live anywhere else but here. She has a tough time talking to people as it is. Outside...”
Axia’s eyes lit up. “Would you like to meet her? I’m sure she’d like to speak with someone. She doesn’t have many people that come to her lectures so...Though she doesn’t say much I know she’s really sad.”
“Sure.” Anton stood up, delicately taking Axia’s hand. “I’d be delighted. Could you lead the way? We don’t exactly know our way around here yet.”
---[]---
Axia guided them through the sprawling buildings, not caring or giving the other students or teachers a second glance. And in return neither did they. The condition of the buildings began to degrade, the white marble darkened and grew rougher as they approached a small building near the wall, just to the side of a large spire. The spire and wall were well maintained, unlike the surrounding buildings. Anton hoped her mother wasn’t living in some shack tucked away; out of sight, out of mind.
“Mother isn’t living in some shack.” Axia picked up on Anton’s concern. “It’s not the best in the Academy but it’s a lot better than most people outside.”
What did she mean she wouldn’t be able to live outside? A magical affliction? Disease? That’s not going to be a problem for me…I hope.
Axia stopped at a door on the second level. She breathed deep, pulled the cloak tighter, and knocked on the door.
“Mother? Are you there?” Axia glanced back. “It’s Axia. Are you in or out?”
“The door’s unlocked.” A calm and soft voice came through.
Axia sighed and pushed the door open. “Mother, you can’t just leave the door like that. You know that it’s dangerous here…Especially here.”
A figurative cyclone had clearly just passed through; dusty books, scraps and reams of paper lay scattered everywhere, all slowly gravitating to the floor. Heavy dark blue gemstones tried in vain to weigh down the piles.
Axia shook her head and led them through a rough pathway, picking up the loose papers and gently placing them on a random pile. Anton took a peek; every page bristled with mathematical formula that completely boggled his mind.
“Mother? Where are you?” Axia leant around a pile of books. “You need to come out to greet people when they come to visit…”
“I’m over here.” The voice came from an adjacent room through the slight maze of papers and books, the door held ajar by a particularly thick book.
Axia sighed, retrieved the book and pushed open the door. On the far side of the room, surrounded by more magical constructions and gemstones, sat a young woman in front of a large messy table, the spitting image of an adult Axia. She glanced up from her desk, her face completely devoid of emotion as she looked at her daughter. She was quite pretty; short blonde hair framing her light-skinned face, soft green eyes alongside a light dusting of freckles with a slim body visible even underneath her loose light blue Principle Mage’s robes.
“Who are they?” Her soft voice didn’t fit her emotionless face.
Axia forced a smile. “These are the people that saved me from Jessi and her friends.”
Her mothers’ eyes darted to her paper, Axia closed her eyes and turned away. As Axia gently shook her head her mother raised her hand towards her daughter, they scrunched tight before dropping to the table, all the while her face barely moved.
“My name is Anton,” Anton spoke slowly and calmly. “And these are my companions, Verona and Cetina."
“Mezot.” The woman returned the nod, to the exact same degree. “My name is Mezot.”
An oppressive silence filled the air.
Anton coughed lightly. “Your daughter is safe. A group of students were attacking her with magic. Quite badly too, while everyone else simply watched on.”
Mezot’s eyes again flicked to Axia but she didn’t say or move anything other than her hand tightening to a fist.
“Are you alright?” Verona frowned deeply, leaning forward while planting a hand on her hip. “Your daughter was just attacked, if we didn’t intervene she could be really badly hurt. Or dead. So…”
Mezot gently placed her dip pen down, flexed her hands and breathed deeply. “Are…Are you alright? A-Axia?”
Axia’s face brightened. “Yes. I am now, mother.”
Axia smiled at Verona.
“How can I repay you?” Mezot’s finger tapped on the pen. “I should repay…Help.”
Anton glanced at Verona and Cetina. “We were actually looking for some help ourselves when we came across your daughter.”
“I don’t think I can be much help.” Mezot ran a hand through her hair. Dry black ink stained her fingertips, none touched her blonde hair. “I must finish my work. If I don’t I’m…”
Mezot shook her head. “I…I just need to focus.”
Cetina tapped Anton’s and Verona’s sides. “She sounds like she’s about to snap under some sort of stress. Is Principle Magic that stressful?”
“I honestly have no idea.”
Mezot’s nearly blank eyes returned to the sprawling pages in front of her. They darted from page to page of mathematical formula with seemingly no rhyme or reason.
It's like she's just becoming overwhelmed...I wonder...
“But…” Anton leant very close, so Axia couldn’t hear. “I think she might have some sort of condition.”
“Strega Witch?” Verona asked.
“No…” Anton watched Mezot’s eyes continue to scan the papers. “Not this time.”
“Mezot?” Anton’s words broke her from her trance. “What do you know about Glyph Magic?”
Something clicked behind her eyes. She slapped the table, spilling drops of ink onto the papers, not that she cared or was even aware.
“Glyph Magic is a source of magic that’s different, yet similar to Principle Magic.” Mezot’s hands began to shake, in happiness rather than nerves or fear.
“Unlike Principle Magic…” Mezot scrambled through the piles of paper behind her revealing a staff, topped with a modest sized silver charm containing five large blue gems. “Glyph Magic is able to use the body’s own natural conduits to shape and channel mana. It’s considered the first type of magic to ever exist, drawing from ancient gods of the land-”
“Mother?”
“-predating even written language. It is suspected that the first users of Glyph Magic, through worshipping the Old Gods, laid the foundation for all Empires and Kingdoms around the world. They-”
“Mother?” Axia rested a hand on her hip.
“-could easily dominate those without magic, fend off attackers, be they other people or hostile creatures, and form small towns and cities under their rule. People would flock to them simply because they could defend their lands from threats that would require over an order of magnitude more people to face. And from that safety nations would rise.”
“Sounds like us.” Verona mused.
“But it is very simple compared to Principle Magic.” Mezot let her staff fall, rolling away to collapse on a small pile of paper. “Principle Magic is far more complex, which is an advantage and disadvantage. It takes longer to create similar magic but it uses far less mana. It’s also far more difficult to unbind and unravel the mana used to create magic-”
“Mother!” Axia’s shout stopped Mezot. “You’re…”
Mezot’s eyes flicked to her daughter than to Anton. For a moment he swore tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She stood up, knocking the ink vial over, and ran from the room. The door slammed closed, leaving everyone in a stunned silence.
“I...” Verona shook her head. “What did we just see?”
“I’m sorry.” Axia smiled bitterly. “Mother’s been like that as long as I can remember. I…Sometimes she’s like a stone and then when she’s talking about magic she turns so…”
Axia raised her hands and let them drop dramatically to her sides.
“But she’s going to okay?” Anton asked.
“She’ll be fine. Just give her a little time and she’ll be back…And just like she was before.”
“Hyper-focused on certain things…Is this what you mean by that she can’t live outside?”
Axia nodded. The door slowly creaked open. Mezot returned, the excitement and elation had completely disappeared, her hands gripped tight.
“I…I’m sorry you saw that.” Mezot bowed her head, again an exact duplicate of Anton’s. She glanced at her daughter. “Sometimes I can get too…focused, on my work.”
Axia hugged her mother. It took a second but it was returned, a genuine display of warmth, even visible in her eyes.
“Mezot.” Anton began. “I want to try something, if I may.”
“What do you need?” Mezot’s fingers flexed. She looked to her half buried staff, uncaring that it was underneath piles of papers. “I can only really use magic, ice and water magic at that.”
Mezot raised her hand, murmured something under her breath, and a large icicle emerged. It was longer than his head, the ice perfectly clear and without imperfection. Her fingers flexed and the icicle disappeared back into the ether. Despite the truly impressive display of magic Mezot seemed despondent. Her eyes fell upon her body, her clothes perfectly flat against her chest.
“My body...”
“I believe that I might have a way to…clear your thoughts. Perhaps. I think that you get overwhelmed by certain things and your mind just stops, focusing so hard on what’s in front of you that the rest of the world just falls away, and you can't escape unless someone drags you out of it. Like working on those pages or talking about magic.”
Mezot blinked. “How did you know?”
“I just had a feeling. But I think I might be able to help.” Anton touched Mezot’s shoulder, she twitched but didn’t recoil. “If you’ll let me.”
Mezot nodded. “Are you a Life Mage?”
"Kind of." Anton looked to the still open doorway. "Is it going to be a problem if I use magic here? They might not like my particular school of magic."
"Necromancer?" Mezot's face remained blank. "Each of the buildings is protected, magic can still be used but no one can detect what is being used inside."
"So no one can steal another's research?" Anton asked. "Does that happen a lot?"
Mezot nodded.
That could be dangerous. Assassination through magic, and no one would be able to tell. Not that I have such an intention.
“I’m no necromancer. But I’m sure they’ll dislike it regardless. Here goes. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal this woman’s body and mind. May her mind be cleared of anything negative ailments and conditions.”
Mezot coughed as the prayer’s magic coursed through her body. Axia looked up at her mother, holding her tight. Mezot blinked, her eyes focused and gained some clarity but not to a normal person.
“How do you feel?” Anton asked.
“What…” Mezot raised and looked at her hands. “What was…Was that Glyph Magic?”
“It was.” Anton removed his glove to show the three small glyph marks. “Tethra, the Goddess of Prayer.”
“That…” Mezot blinked, took a deep breath and moved to her chair. “Was different.”
Mezot returned to her papers, ignoring those stained with ink. She began to sift through the papers, organising them into some sort of order rather than just staring blankly at the piles.
“I thought you healed her,” Verona whispered, Axia looked to them confused.
“I did. But…Remember the Emperor’s son? Where Ferula said that even she couldn’t fix something?”
“Yeah. But this doesn’t sound like that.”
Anton held his ring. “Because it’s an affliction of the mind. And something that might not be able to be healed. Something she was born with. I don’t know what the correct name of it is, or what it would be called here, but it’s like she can become hyper-focused on things she enjoys.”
“So it’s not a problem?” Verona asked. She looked at Mezot, finally a frown on her face, as the stacks of organized paper grew quickly. “Seems like it might be.”
“But she’s okay?” Cetina asked. “Like in her mind. I don’t know if a mage can use magic if they’re crazy.”
“She has a kid,” Anton said. “And she seems fine, minus what we've just witnessed, of course.”
“So she’s ideal.” Verona sniggered. “You might have your work cut out of you this time, but I don’t think you’ll get another chance to whisk away some Principle Mage. A teacher, I might add. This is probably going to be it for a long time.”
“Is it going well over there?” Kal asked. “Just sounds like Verona’s being herself.”
“We might have our mage.” Anton laughed. “Just need to completely work things through and we should be fine.”
“Right…Be safe, everyone.”
Anton removed his hand from the ring. “Mezot?”
Mezot looked up. The papers on her desk, those that weren’t covered in ink, had been neatly stacked. If they were in order Anton had no idea. Those stained with ink had been discarded and Axia had retrieved her staff.
“This…” Mezot raised her hands over the papers. “My head is a little clearer than normal. The words and numbers are not…overwhelming. I’m not becoming lost in them…So easily at least. I’d like to know how that worked.” Mezot took her staff. “I’ve never seen Glyph Magic in person before. Only what the books describe.”
"We aren't the most common of magic users." Anton smiled. "But I've been told they do exist, shouldn't be too hard for someone like you, a teacher in the Royal Academy, to find one."
“I…” Mezot looked almost embarrassed. “I don’t leave the Academy often. Now that I think about it I might not have left since last winter.”
Mezot stared at the papers on her desk. Axia tapped her shoulder when it was clear she was becoming lost in the words, though nowhere near as bad as before.
“Thank you again for saving my daughter.” Mezot attempted a smile. “I know that Axia gets bullied by some of the students but there’s not a lot that I can do. I'm a teacher, not a Master. And then I’ve got my thesis and I can get lost in my writings so easily…”
“You might not be able to interfere but that doesn’t mean Axia should just take it lying down.” Anton turning to the young girl. “Do you have friends?”
“Not really.” Axia scratched her arm. “They talk to everyone before I can say anything…”
Anton held his chin. “And you can’t really fight back for the sake of your mother, and they have some pretty powerful families. Your options are rather limited. You may just have to run really fast in the future.”
Axia smiled. “I’m usually pretty good at getting away. They don’t allow fighting during class, afterwards…Not so much.”
Mezot sighed. “And I could be thrown out if I don’t get my thesis completed soon.”
"I take it this thesis is extremely important."
Mezot frowned. "You can't just take a thesis..." Axia coughed and nudged her mother's side. "Oh. Right. They are important. And I don't have one yet. So that means I'm not a Master yet. And..."
Mezot gripped her hands tight. "I can't afford to stay here if I'm not."
"We might be able to help." Anton looked for a chair. Axia brushed away a pile, revealing two hidden chairs. He and Verona accepted them, Cetina gestured she would stand. "We have more than enough money to cover any expenses."
"Why do you want to help me?" Mezot looked over her body. "I'm clearly not desirable."
"Well, I don't know about that." Mezot remained blankly faced, something was moving in Axia's mind. "But we need people that know Principle Magic. And, more importantly, someone that can teach it. Which, if your daughter speaks the truth, fits you perfectly."
Mezot frowned, looking down over her body again.
This could get...
"I can't just leave," Mezot spoke very calmly. "And while you helped my daughter and my...Mind, I don't know who you are."
"I understand completely." Anton leant back into the chair. "I would be a bit concerned if you decided to just join us right away. If we helped you complete this thesis of yours, and since this place is shielded from outside scrutiny, you could stay here and teach us."
"I might not be the best teacher.” Mezot gripped her dip pen hard. “No one comes to my Ice and Water magic lectures. And few to my demonstrations.”
“Some people come.” Axia smiled. “And they’ve always been there.”
Well, it might be a bit hard for people here, a lot of whom are used to having servants, to deal with Mezot’s oddities and with a very narrow field of magic…No wonder she’s struggling. Definitely not doing much for her self-esteem. I imagine it’s virtually zero right now.
“So what do you have to say? We help you with your thesis, so you don’t have to worry about losing your job, and you help us.” Anton nodded. “How does that sound?”
Mezot looked at her daughter. “Axia. What-What do you think?”
Axia stared into their eyes, a smile crept up her face. “I think we should. If you don’t they’re going to throw you out. And since you don’t have a noble backing anymore…”
“So how did you become a teacher here?” Verona asked softly. “I don’t think they’d just let you in…You learnt everything in this place, correct?”
Mezot glumly nodded. “I was born in a small village near the coast. They found that I could magic early …but my family couldn’t afford to send me here. So…” Mezot gripped her hands tight. “They married me to a minor noble. That’s how I gave birth to Axia.”
“So you’re married?” Verona sounded slightly disappointed.
Anger flashed over Mezot’s face. “No. No, I’m not. We travelled here together but he found someone else that could use magic.” She stared at Verona’s chest with a silent, envious fury. “A young woman with…” Mezot pointed at Verona’s chest. “That!”
Mezot calmed herself, breathing deep and straightening her back. Though the robes were loose they pulled tight against her chest. Mezot lacked any sign of the usual defining features of a woman, at least her top half.
Mezot flexed her fingers. “He left me with my daughter and I’ve haven’t seen him since. I don’t know what he’s doing now or if he's even still alive. I don’t even think about it.”
Axia gently held her mother’s hand.
“I’ve still got a little time before my thesis needs to be completed.” Mezot looked at her papers. “And I’m not going to get it done like this.”
Mezot looked Anton dead in the eyes. “I agree to your terms.”
Anton clapped his hands, Mezot recoiled slightly at the noise. “So how can we help with this thesis of yours? And what is it anyway?”
Mezot’s previous burst of energy and excitement returned. “I’m trying to create a new type of Ice magic. A new application. A new form. I have most of the formula but I need some additional components to complete it. But…I don’t have the money for it. So I’ve been trying to work out a way around it and…”
“So what’s the piece?”
“A Wyrm heart,” Mezot said calmly. “Once I have that I can easily finish my thesis.”
“How does a Wyrm heart help you?” Verona asked. “How does a heart fix anything?”
“It’s difficult to explain.” Mezot looked to one of the pieces of paper. “But with it, I can finish my new magic in under a day.”
“And we get this…”
“From…Bebbezzar.” Mezot looked to the north-west. “That’s the only place where they can be found. At least on this continent. It’s incredibly expensive and rare…so….”
“We’ll see what we can do.” Anton stood up. “If we can get you one you’ll agree to help us?”
Mezot stared dumbfounded until Axia jabbed her side again. “Yes. I will do everything I can to help you.”
“Excellent. Now…Do you have somewhere slightly private? We need a room. A room without reams and reams of paper.”
“Only the bedroom.” Axia looked up to her mother, nearly rolling her eyes. “But even that’s starting to fill up.”
Mezot idly played with her pen. Maybe with the healing she would be able to focus on other things a little easier.
“I have another room…But it’s a mess.”
“Can you help us?” Axia asked.
“Of course.” Anton smiled. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Axia laughed. “You say that…”
“Are we going to bring the horses in here?” Verona asked, tugging on his sleeve. “I don’t want them staying here with all these mages.”
“The corridor was more than wide enough to bring them in.” Anton smiled. “Oh. Before we start.”
Anton retrieved a small pouch of gold coins and passed them to Axia. Her eyes practically bulged from her skull at the sight of so much wealth.
Anton winked. “Just something to tide you over, help things until we can get things going. Now,” Anton clapped his hands together. “How bad are we talking here?”
It was almost an hour before the room was cleaned.