Chapter 170:

"Is this normal?" Anton softly asked Mezot.

Mezot, sitting beside Anton at the rear of the open auditorium, nodded once. "Yes. This...This is how you learn."

She looked directly into his eyes, her stare unwavering. "Was it different when you learnt your magic?"

"Verona and I sort of stumbled through it blind." Anton folded his arms. "If we went too far it hurt us. We could have killed ourselves or burnt-out our magic if we were too hasty. And, before Kal gained hers, there was no one else to heal us."

"Who's Kal?" Mezot asked flatly. She looked at Cetina, sitting beside her, then to Verona sitting on Anton's other side.

"Another one of us weird ones." Verona laughed. "I know you'll get along."

Cetina raised a brow but Mezot accepted her explanation.

"Again!" An instructor barked at the young Academy students. They were too young to have the mental fortitude to resist and followed the order.

The students focused on their staves, specifically at the metal Charms on top, and began to chant a spell. Anton noticed that some spoke much faster than others, others much louder and others little more than a whisper. Axia, near the back of the gathering, fell into the latter. Anton almost winced at the relative condition and expense of the students’ clothes and equipment. Those at the front were the most extravagant, bright colours and finely woven garments, dwindling to those at the rear with some even worse dressed than Axia.

"It's good to know that money can't buy talent," Anton said softly. "Most of those rich kids can't do it half as well as your daughter."

Mezot's chest swelled with pride, at least by Mezot's standard. Axia was indeed doing better than most of her fellow students. She finished her chant after half of the other students had but she was the first to have the magic completed perfectly. A small sphere of flame hovered above her staff, somehow less wild than Anton's but he didn't doubt its destructive potential.

"Excellent." The instructor, a hard-faced elderly man, nodded once at Axia’s magic. "The rest of you could learn something from her."

"Don't do that," Anton grumbled, Verona and Cetina leant forward, Mezot remained stationary. "It's going to make things even worse for her."

Mezot's head snapped to him, her golden brows furrowed. "What?"

Before Anton could explain a student near the front screamed. The fireball he held was not like any of the others, this was fluttering in and out of existence, a loud popping sound, a small explosion, punctuated each emergence.

"Knock it off!" The instructor yelled, at first attempting to push his way through the students but quickly realising that there were still many fireballs floating in the air, and skirted around them. "Right now! Or stop it. I don't care which!"

"I-I can't!" Fear ran down the boy's face in great rivers. "I'm trying but..."

Mezot's hand gripped tight around her staff. "It's consuming his magic."

"The fireball?" Anton asked, Mezot nodded. "Why not just stop feeding it mana?"

The other students cancelled their magic and backed away. Anton was glad to see Axia take great efforts to manoeuvre the haughty students as shields.

The flickering fireball flickered back into reality one last time and became perfectly stable, the flames rising and falling in a very slow but recognizable pattern. The Lecturer drew his own charm from his pocket, pulled the stunned student hard enough to send him tumbling into the other haughty students, and began to speak furiously while clasping his charm so tight his knuckles turned white.

Mezot held her staff in front, already murmuring something underneath her breath. Anton didn't want to interrupt, lest he worsen the situation.

Something moved in the slowly moving flame. Not eyes, but a presence, something that moved through the flames like a fish through water. Anton's skin crawled at the sight.

The creature turned to the Lecturer and pushed against the sphere. The surface bulged outwards, the flame itself began to tear apart. Screams erupted from the students, no longer paralysed by the unusual occurrence, and began to flee. All bar the boy whose magic had run amuck. His eyes remained transfixed on the sphere, where the entity was tearing through. Before the entity could emerge the Lecturer managed a slight smirk.

"Go back to the rancid realm from which you came, abomination!"

The sphere began to contract to something no larger than a grape. Inside the flaming entity thrashed and bucked wildly, pushing against the flame as the sphere contracted. When the entity had doubled over itself and there was simply no more room to give, the entity's body snapped, leaking a viscous black liquid that stained and corrupted the red flame.

The Lecturer grunted, murmuring something underneath his breath, and the small black grape instantly collapsed to a single point. The next moment it exploded, showering everyone nearby in a thick dark purple smoke. A magical shield, covered in thousands of intricate symbols and mathematical expressions, emerged in front of both the Lecturer and Mezot, both large enough to shield many people. Mezot's magical shield was much larger, more intense with far more clarity.

"Is everyone alright?" The Lecturer breathed deeply, lowering his magical shield, followed by Mezot, and inspected the students.

He found nothing until his eyes fell upon the boy who caused the entire drama. The boys’ hands had turned black, yet they were not dead, but he probably wished they were: one hand was now gnarled, fingers had broken and healed in strange positions, now a permanent claw, in the other the fingers had fused with whatever piece of skin they made contact with, pieces of bone burst through his skin to at random angles to fuse together again. His veins, at least on the clawed hand, now ran with some sort of liquid fire, Anton immediately thought of the Demons, but clearly this was not his new blood. Blackened skin shrivelled and peeled away, his skin erupted in puffs of flame and the sickly thick smoke of burning flesh. The fused hand remained lifeless.

It took some time for the boy to understand, to comprehend, what had befallen his body. Slowly it worked its way through his mind, his eyes widening and pupils constricting with his understanding. Then he screamed.

"Don't move!" The Lecturer ushered the students away. A firm and loud voice snapped them from their stupor, and they began to flee. Mezot jolted up to follow Axia but her daughter already knew of her presence. She hurled over the benches, with skill that Anton did not expect from a Mage, and dove into her. Anton almost smiled when he saw Mezot's arms outstretched, doubly so when she pulled her close.

"Don't move!" The Lecturer yelled at me again. The screaming boy was not listening.

As he thrashed about he brought his hands close to his chest, close enough that both hands could touch one another. His screams became ear-piercing shrills as he threw them away and against the hard wooden floor. His gnarled hand echoed like stone hitting wood, the other crumpled and shattered with the tell-tale sound of snapping bone. Only then did his sleeves roll, the transformation travelled much further than just his wrist.

A side door burst open, a stream of teachers and other lecturers emerged. Two were given extra leeway and space, two dressed in pure white. Behind them the Head Master followed, the silently watching the proceedings with a calm face that almost completely hid the fear coursing underneath his skin.

The two White Mages, Anton assumed they were Life Mages, Principle Mages that specialised in healing, knelt beside the still screaming boy. With a silent look the others held his arms down, quite forcefully, and elicited another bout of painful screams. Their large charms, multi-coloured gemstones embedded in a disk of a light silver began to glow. The boys’ screams diminished to whimpers then to nothing. His breathing calmed, the muscles in his face relaxed but his arms remained twisted and deformed.

The Lecturer said something softly to one of the Life Mages and turned to address the people that remained.

"All classes and practical exercises are cancelled for the day." He cleared his throat. "The rest of today is free. No one is to practice magic unless there is a teacher present. Understood?"

The students that remained readily agreed. The White Mages ordered the boy placed on a stretcher and gently lifted, careful to not bump either of his arms.

"Is he going to be okay?" A young girl student asked. She held her hands tight in front of her chest, her head bobbed from side to side as she attempted to get a better look.

The male White Mage smiled faintly. "We will do everything that we can for him."

That's a gentle way of saying no.

Regardless, the girl took his words at face value. She still remained incredibly nervous even after he had been carried away.

"Mezot." Anton waited until her attention shifted from her daughter, still in her arms. "How did they know that was going to happen?"

Axia gently tapped her mother's back and parted.

"I could sense something was very wrong." Mezot's gaze fell upon the centre of the blackened wood floor, where the sphere once hovered above. "The magic the boy had written was wrong. It's lucky he didn't simply bring it through."

"And it is?" Verona asked.

"A creature from another place." Mezot's breathing began to increase, not from fear but excitement, excitement from discussing magic. As her lips began to curl into a smile and her back straighten to allow more air into her lungs, she flexed her hands and calmed herself.

"Not the time to become..." Mezot looked to her daughter. Axia smiled and nodded gently.

Mezot coughed to steady herself. "I have seen drawings of that creature before."

"He called it an abomination," Verona mumbled softly. Mezot looked down at her, Verona raised her hands. "Sorry. Just a thought I had."

"Abominations are the result of a failed creature summoning." Anton frowned ever so slightly. "Right?"

Mezot nodded. "They are also completely uncontrollable. Like the creature in the flames."

"You've seen it happen before?" Cetina asked.

Mezot glumly nodded. "Several times. Especially when I was younger. A group of students-"

Movement behind Mezot caught Anton and Cetina's eye. With the clinking of metal, and Anton's attention no longer focused on her, Mezot turned to see the Head Master standing just behind her. Mezot moved to the side, Anton caught Axia pulling a face which only he appeared to see. Axia threw Anton a look, not to tell anyone.

"It would be a good idea for you to leave." The Principal spoke softly. The brisk tone of his voice had now vanished. "While we sort out this mess."

"Shouldn't the magic have exploded?" Anton asked, the Head Master threw him an odd look. "If the magic has been formed incorrectly, surely it shouldn't have caused that?"

"Magic is extremely dangerous." Now he sounded more like a condescending teacher speaking to an ignorant child. "And accidents, like what you just saw, are not that uncommon."

"Looks like the poor kid had his very soul mangled before him," Anton said softly.

The Head Masters’ eyes narrowed slightly. "Indeed. However, I do ask again that you leave. For now at least." He quickly added after Verona inhaled to start an objection. "We need to clean the area and ensure that everything returns to normal."

"Of course." Anton bowed his head. "We don't want to interfere with any Academy work."

The Head Master shot Mezot a look. As a member of the Royal Academy, she was of infinitely higher rank than Anton, yet she was content to let him speak. He gave a near imperceptible shrug and returned to the others Mages.

"I wonder if your magic could help him?" Verona mused. "Probably not, if it's done that to him." She patted his lower back, low enough to feel the edge of his tail.

"Probably end up as some dissection." Anton sighed. "A curiosity at best. I'm sure the Academy's going to have fun explaining why a rich nobleman's son has turned into a monster."

"They'll probably remove their funding," Mezot said softly. "Maybe. If they have other children that can come here...then maybe not."

Anton clapped his hands. "On a happier note, I, we, were all impressed to see you use magic, Axia. Seems like you've got a real talent for it."

Axia laughed, the seriousness of what transpired but a minute ago had all but washed away. “Thanks, Anton. I don’t really know if I’m all that good.” Axia nervously scratched her head. “It’s always been easy for me. Maybe that’s why they don’t get along with me.”

Axia shrugged again.

“Time for us to leave I think.” Anton began gently ushering everyone towards the door. “They’re all giving us evil glares.”

Axia giggled as they left, avoiding all eye contact as the mages began their work.

---[]---

Outside darkness had well and truly began to set. Small crystal lights covered the ground in a faint white light, Anton presumed they were activated by the time of day, an intriguing facet of magic he really hadn’t had the need to explore. A rumbling stomach stopped his thoughts. However, it didn’t come from Verona.

“It’s almost dinner…” Axia trailed off into nothing, looking away as if that was enough to hide that the noise came from her.

“I’m starving as well.” Verona rubbed her stomach. “What, what do you eat?”

Mezot averted her eyes, a rare show of emotion.

“Does the Academy provide food?” Anton asked. “Even as a student, they should provide something, even if you have to pay for it.”

Axia laughed nervously. “Let’s not think too much on-”

“-Not well,” Mezot said softly. She glanced down at her body, sighing loudly. “Maybe that’s…”

“Maybe we should all get something?” Verona offered. “Something outside of the Academy. I know I smelt good food as we came in. And it’s only going to get stronger as the night drags on.”

Anton held Verona tight. “It’s almost like you only have one thought on your mind.” Verona stuck out her tongue. “So, what do you think?”

Axia readily agreed to the idea, her mother less so. A tremor of panic ran through her body.

“It’s…” Mezot gripped her hands tight. “It’s been so long since I’ve actually left the walls. I…” Mezot almost smiled. “I don’t even know what the city looks like outside.”

Anton smiled. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re going to send you out there on your own. Crowded city streets aren’t the best place for solitary women. Especially in a place this densely populated.”

Mezot and Axia returned blank faces but Anton began walking towards the main entrance, the two quickly caught up after sharing a quick glance. They joined a faint trail of students, and some teachers and lecturers, leaving the Academy grounds. Judging by their faces Anton suspected they were planning to do more than simply have a good meal.

“So long as they know what they’re getting into.” Anton murmured. Only Cetina heard him, he didn’t explain but he was fairly certain she understood.

The guards gave a double-take when Mezot passed, one almost looked ready to ask if she was alright but decided against it. Or simply couldn’t be bothered, Anton didn’t know which. Mezot looked at the stone ground as they passed the outer wall. For a moment she hesitated to take the last step. One glance at Axia, standing and waiting well past, was enough encouragement. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, outside of the Royal Academy and into the city. For most people it would be nothing but for Mezot it was a huge accomplishment.

Without their horses to push and force a way through the swarms of people Anton found it a little difficult to keep track of everyone. Not that he was actually worried about someone being dragged away but the sheer volume of humanity streaming past was quite impressive. Verona remained at his back while Cetina moved behind Mezot and Axia, just to make sure neither became lost or overwhelmed, especially Mezot.

"Where should we go?" Anton yelled back, his voice barely pushing through the sounds of civilization. "Do either of you know somewhere good? Axia?"

"I've heard of a tavern that's supposed to be pretty good." Axia thrust her hand up into the air. "The students talk about it all the time."

"What age are we talking?"

"My age?" Axia frowned.

"That's fine then. I think. So which way is it?"

Several minutes later they arrived at a large open floored building, easily five stories high. The traffic here was still high but nowhere near as intense as the main thoroughfares. The building's layout reminded Anton of a pub: a large wooden fence to separate passers-by’s from the patrons, many tables with high chairs and free flowing drink and food. Servers darted between the tables, and some of the more rowdy guests, holding plates of steaming food and large jugs overflowing with lightly frothing beer.

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“Perfect.” Verona clapped her hands. “This looks absolutely perfect.”

Someone bumped into Mezot, still standing slightly away from the rest of them. She glanced at the man as he merged with the crowds passing by.

“Did he just steal something?” Anton asked.

Mezot lightly patted her body. “No…No. I…” Mezot’s face fell ever so slightly. “I don’t have much money. I thought you would be paying.”

Mezot glanced back to the Academy, the large white towers loomed over the tall wooden buildings.

“I’ll need to go back-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton held her shoulder. “I just thought you might have been pick-pocketed.”

“Oh…I understand.” Mezot’s faint smile was quite reassuring, in a strange way.

Verona smiled awkwardly at Anton, so too did Axia, as they entered the building. The noise was great, a loud continuous drone of human voices where no one single voice could be isolated from the rest. A woman greeted them and, after a quick rapport, guided them to a small booth. Anton liked the design; the backs of the seats formed a divider between the next booth, giving it an open yet personal feeling. Axia didn’t hesitate at taking her seat, running at the wooden bench and skidding her rear along to the far side. She laughed and patted the seat next to her. Mezot hesitated but took her place next to her daughter. Anton and Verona sat opposite, Cetina sat last on the bench with her back turned slightly towards them to keep her focus outside.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had good food.” Axia rubbed her stomach. “I don’t remember the last time I had food outside the Academy.”

“It…” Mezot frowned lightly and looked away, a brief look of regret and disappointment.

“I think that,” Anton shuffled forward, adjusting himself so his bound tail wasn’t squished against the seat, especially where it grew from his rear. “In anticipation of your completed thesis-”

“However that Wyrm Heart is going to help,” Verona said idly. Mezot remained still while continuing to listen intently.

“-I think we should get the best this place has to offer.” Anton found himself looking around for a menu, quickly remembering that most people in this world couldn’t read.

But the capital of a country like Graterious should have a higher rate of literacy. Probably not so high outside of the wealthier areas.

Anton glanced beyond Cetina, Cetina returned a quickly raised brow, to the rest of the patrons in the establishment. It was a mix of, what Anton would dare to call, middle-class citizens. He couldn’t see anyone covered in soot or grime, nor anyone wearing decadent clothing like he’d seen in Porswea.

“This place looks like it’ll have a fantastic selection.” Verona eagerly licked her lips. “So what does everyone want?”

---[]---

With their stomachs filled they began making their way back to the Academy. While exploring Boreana was something Anton wanted to do, and discover places, where they might be able to purchase weapons and materials in large quantities, was important, he didn’t want to roam the capital’s unknown streets with four women. It would be bad enough just on his own.

Anton felt as if they were being watched a little too closely by some in the crowd. He looked back with an eye's peripheral vision but couldn't find anything amiss.

"Do you think someone's following us?" Cetina asked softly.

"I was thinking the same thing." Verona murmured. She ran a hand through her hair, throwing it over her shoulder, giving her an excuse to look behind.

"Might be a group of thugs." Verona sniggered, her expression quickly fell. "Unless they have something against my hair."

"What are you talking about?" Axia held a piece of the delicious beef wrapped in bread, nibbling as she walked.

She's almost as bad as Verona for putting food away. Maybe worse, Verona is a little 'bigger' than her.

"Those students that hurt you." Anton noticed Mezot visibly tense at his words. "Did they ever follow you, try and force you into a place where they wouldn't be seen?"

Axia glumly nodded. "After a while, they stopped caring. So...that's what's happening to us?"

Axia turned around, continuing to walk backwards while eating. Anton tapped her shoulder and spun her back around.

"We don't want to be too obvious about it." Anton smiled. "If they think we know they might just give up."

"And we..." Cetina frowned. "Isn't that what we want?"

"Yes. But I also want to know why they're targeting us."

Anton nodded to the small groups of people walking alongside. Some were clearly workers, people that were unafraid to get their hands, and themselves dirty, but many more were families enjoying a night out or gatherings of men and women, looking for a good time or a perhaps someone to go home with.

"We don't look that wealthy compared to them. Cetina's armour is probably the most flashy thing we have."

"Should have worn my old set," Cetina mumbled.

“That might be a problem.” Anton held her shoulder. “In case we get into a fight.”

“My sword is ready, Anton.”

“Combat is forbidden in the capital,” Mezot said sternly.

Anton smiled. “Something like that’s not going to stop criminals. Especially if they want something…” Anton held his chin. “Or if they’ve been paid to do it.”

“You have an idea.” Verona tapped the top of her chest, clearly irritating both Mezot and Axia. “I’m ready to fight, if you want me too.”

“Magic will just attract too much attention. But we will if we have to.” Anton glanced back. “I’d rather not in the first place…I might have to leave this to you, Cetina.”

Cetina smirked, tightening the grip on her free hand. “After what we’ve been through recently a few thugs would be a nice change of pace.”

---[]---

“I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not.” Cetina kicked the thugs head hard, shattering teeth and sending the blood-stained white fragments tumbling along the stone ground. “You were the ones trying to attack us.”

Verona huffed. “And you’re pretty bad at it too. Eight of you beaten by one woman?”

Anton was a little surprised that it was actually eight thugs following them, all quite well armed, for thugs that is. He didn’t understand what they were planning to do with Cetina, perhaps knock her out with the wooden bat one of the thugs carried, but he almost pitied them. Almost. And no one was going to find them in this little cordoned off alleyway.

“So who sent you?” Anton sighed. “As if we don’t have enough petty crap to deal with…”

Those guards at the city gates told us to keep out of trouble. Well, I’m sure they won’t find out about this but using Tethra’s magic here, and not Principle Magic at that, will probably raise some questions. Might have to do this the old fashioned way.

“It…”

Axia’s face contorted in discomfort as she watched the thug bleed profusely from his face. Her eagerness for violence had faded the moment blood had been spilt. She remained standing hard against the wall, right next to her mother. Mezot held her daughters' frown but little else besides. It was heart-warming to see her holding her daughter's hand for reassurance, for who Anton knew it simply didn’t matter.

“Didn’t even cause a scratch.” Cetina flexed her hand.

“And you didn’t fall into your trance either.” Verona smiled. “Are you just that good or are they just terrible fighters?”

“Both?” Cetina shrugged, suppressing a smile.

"So we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way."

"Why..." Mezot trailed off as attention squarely fell on her.

"Keep going."

"Why don't we hand them over to the guards?" Mezot winced slightly. "It's what they're supposed to do."

"After we've got a little information out of them first." Anton looked to the single conscious thug. "After all, they might be in the employ of someone powerful and connected, enough to get them free. Or simply have the problem disappear."

"Along with them." Cetina murmured. Verona glumly agreed.

Mezot wanted to say something but couldn't find her voice.

Anton took Cetina's sword, not before she threw him a worried glance. Verona still didn't know of the incident in Qaiviel and the burning Knight.

"I don't think you're stupid." Anton twirled the sword in the air. "At least not completely. So you already know how this goes. Yes?"

The thug nodded when Anton tapped the sword's point on his hand.

"So who hired you? And who were you after?"

The thug refused to respond, planting his face firmly against the stone.

"Come on." Anton began pushing down. "There is an easy way, and a painful way. So which is it going to be?"

A drop of blood leaked from the man's hand, staining the sword and his gloves.

"Alright." The thug grunted. "We were after her, the blonde woman."

Anton turned to Mezot and Axia, the only two blondes in their group. And Axia would probably still be called a girl.

Mezot slowly made the connection.

"M-Me?" Mezot pointed at herself, the colour drained from her face. "What did I do? I-I haven't hurt anyone. So why..."

Axia held her mother's hand tight.

"You heard her. Why did you want to hurt her?" Anton sighed. "I just hope it was hurt and not kill."

Or something far, far worse. In a dingy alley...

"Hurt. Just hurt." The thug raised his unpinned hand. "That's it."

"And the next part..." Verona clicked her tongue. "The most important part?"

The thug was once again reluctant, so Anton applied more pressure. It only took a few more drops of blood for the man to crack once more.

"Lord Pendleton." The thug spat out through harsh breaths, his eyes focused on the sword slowly penetrating his hand. "He was the one that told us...Paid us, to hurt her."

"And who is that?" Anton looked to Mezot. "Someone you know?"

Mezot shook her head. "I...I don't know. No one in the Royal Academy is a Lord. No teacher, lecturer, anyone."

"It could be a student’s parent." Anton's attention moved to Axia. "Those kids that were attacking you the other day. What were their names?

"They aren't them." Axia chuckled nervously. "They're always blabbering about their families’ power and wealth, but I don't remember one called that."

"They were also targeting Mezot rather than Axia," Verona said.

"So who else? Just to hurt, not to kill, so it's..." Anton smiled. "Remember those students on the way to the library?"

"Really?" Verona raised a brow. "All this, because you told them to move off the path?"

"Seems quite petty." Cetina murmured.

"If they've been raised as entitled spoiled brats than it's certainly possible." Anton glanced between the downed thugs, still unconscious. "Especially if they have more money than sense.”

Anton knelt by the thug. “Is this Lord Pendleton a young man?”

“Yes.”

Anton shook his head, sighing loudly. “Alright. We know who sent you. But I don’t think this is much more than just someone being a little stupid and petty.”

“So what happens now?” Mezot frowned. “I…I don’t know…”

“It’s very simple.” Anton brushed his hand against the small dagger on his hip. “Cetina? Could you take them both out of here and back onto the main street?”

“I…Okay.” Cetina gently ushered the two out of the narrow alleyway. Axia ducked and weaved her head, an attempt to watch what Anton was planning while Mezot simply obeyed, though she looked slightly intrigued as well.

“Now what?” Verona waited until they were gone before speaking. “We going to let them go?”

“Of course not.”

“W-”

Anton covered the man’s mouth and thrust the dagger through the thug’s neck, killing him after a brief gurgle of blood.

Thank god this world doesn’t have forensic science.

“Okay…” Verona frowned.

“I doubt that they’re going to just let us go, whoever the person is that sent them after Mezot.” Anton moved to the next thug. “If they just disappear then they’ll be confused about what happened.

“And if they find them dead?” Verona frowned as Anton stabbed the next thug.

“Then they’ll be worried that Mezot took them out by herself.” Anton shrugged. “Something like that. But Mezot…Imagine these guys breaking into her small room."

“Yeah…”

“She wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.” Anton stabbed the fourth thug. “And I don’t like thinking about that, even if we’ve only known them for a short time.”

Verona said nothing and allowed Anton to finish his grizzly task in peace. With all the thugs dead he motioned for her to help him drag the corpses out of the way. While it wouldn’t hide the blood, and a pile of eight bodies in a relatively narrow alleyway was somewhat conspicuous, it would take some time before they were discovered. No one had come down the alley during their fight, and there weren’t any guards posted at either end. More than enough time for them to leave and make it back to the Academy.

“No cameras either.”

“What’s that?” Verona dusted her hands as she released a thug’s arms. “You know, without my powers, these people are really heavy. It’d be so easy just to push them…Guess I’ll just have to get stronger.”

Anton found a loose piece of cloth and draped it over the bodies, shifting some debris so it looked normal.

“It’ll have to do.” Anton looked at his hands. “We’ll have to get rid of this before we head back out there.”

“I don’t think either of them know much about death.” Verona began to vigorously rub her bloodied hands on the cloth. “Do you think…Well, they’re the best we’re going to get.”

“Not without spending a lot of money and attracting some serious attention.” Anton smiled. “And no one else can get us into the library, even if we could convince some wandering Principle Mage. Besides, I like them both. They’re doing pretty well, considering their own struggles.”

“I wonder what it’s like…” Verona checked that Mezot was beyond earshot. “To be like that?”

Anton said nothing as they finished cleaning and hiding the blood as best they could. The blood-stained knife remained with the bodies. It had no defining marks, nothing more than a simple iron dagger, and it would only serve to confuse anyone investigating their deaths.

The city watch will, hopefully, think it’s just some gangs attacking one another. They certainly don’t look like reputable and upstanding citizens.

Cetina waited just beyond the alley entrance with Mezot and Axia waiting nervously beside, as much nervousness as Mezot could actually convey.

“What happened?” Axia asked, curiously glancing down the alley. “Are they still there?”

“They won’t be a problem anymore.” Anton smiled. Cetina understood and grimaced slightly. “But we should get a wiggle on and head back to the Academy. It’s getting late, after all.”

Cetina shot Verona a worried look, Verona smiled and gently shook her head. Anton took the lead back to the Royal Academy, walking as fast as he could without drawing attention. They passed small groups of the city watch, less armoured than the guards protecting the wall but still far better equipped than the thugs. It would be foolish for a common citizen to try something against them.

The Academy guards allowed them to pass without incident or scrutiny into the near-empty grounds of the Academy. Only a few solitary figures walked through the open plazas and gardens, some appeared to be secretive couples, Anton overheard one couple concerned that both of their partners already knew about their tryst. Anton shrugged lightly and continued to Mezot's small room.

"Can we slow down yet?" Axia asked, a slight redness to her cheeks. "I can't walk as fast as you..."

For some reason, her eyes fell on Verona's chest.

"When we're back and safe." Anton waved his hand back to Axia. "And try not to say anything until we are."

Axia pulled an annoyed face, one that elicited a laugh from Verona and a faint smile from Mezot, but followed Anton's words. They said nothing until they were safely inside and the door locked and barred.

"Can we talk now?" Axia asked. She motioned to her mother but Mezot had already wandered off, towards the room containing the Wyrm Heart and, somehow, her thesis.

Axia sighed. "Well, it's better than it normally is."

"You've been an incredible daughter." Anton's words elicited a slight frown from Axia. "I think most people would have given up, but you haven't."

Axia flustered. "I-She's my mother. I have to do everything I can to help her. And...I know she loves me. Even if she has a hard time showing it."

"Are they going to be a problem?" Cetina tapped the pommel of her sword. "I'd rather not have to keep looking over my shoulder in the Academy."

"No, they won't. By the time they find out, hopefully, things will have calmed down." Anton chuckled. "They'd be stupid to try and attack a lecturer...Though anyone working in the Academy shouldn't be able to be threatened like that."

"Gone, as in forever?" Axia tilted her head.

Before Anton could reply a squeal of delight echoed through the room. Mezot burst out, wearing the biggest smile he'd ever seen from her.

"Why..." Verona chuckled. "Right. She gets excited by magic."

"It's done!" Mezot scampered across the floor. "I knew it. I knew that I just needed a stronger catalyst."

"Are you saying..." Anton searched for Mezot's staff, finding it resting against her table, threatening to fall into yet another pile of loose papers and books. "For a moment I thought you were suggesting that you were going to rub it on your staff."

Mezot frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"I..." Anton coughed awkwardly, tapping his boot on the hard wooden floor. "You said you were done?"

Mezot's previous energy instantly returned. "Yes! Everything is ready. I can finally become a lecturer...After so long."

"But..." Verona pursed her lips. "What magic have you actually made? You use ice and water magic mostly, right?"

Mezot nodded extremely enthusiastically, the merest mention of magic was enough to make her animated.

"I don't feel cold. Or wet." Verona shrugged. "I just think you should show us before you show anyone else."

"You did buy me the Wyrm Heart." Mezot nodded thoughtfully.

That's not what Verona means, but let's go with it.

"So I should show you."

"Not here, please." Axia's face turned bitter. "Remember when you tried to practice making water balls?”

“I remember that I created quite a few on my first try,” Mezot spoke softly, frowning as she didn’t quite understand.

“Yes…” Axia sighed. “And remember what happened when you released the water? It didn’t just disappear.”

Mezot’s flushed lightly, she glanced at her staff and refused to look anyone in the eye until her face had calmed.

“Surely we can just use the training areas that Axia used this morning?” Anton said. “How…How dangerous is this new magic of yours? Can it destroy a building in one hit?”

“No.” Mezot hurriedly retrieved her staff. “But I know magic that could. Do you want me to show you?”

She really has a one-track mind.

“Maybe not.” Anton smiled. “But just seeing this new magic of yours will be more than enough.”

---[]---

“I…” Anton held his chin, choosing his words extremely carefully. “I was expecting something a little more…Destructive.”

Mezot frowned, her shoulders drooping ever so slightly. “I thought it was impressive.”

“It is!” Anton quickly changed his tune. It had nothing to do with two women, and a daughter, throwing him dangerous looks. “It is very impressive. But, normally, I was expecting a massive ice explosion.”

Mezot held the small ice crystal aloft. It was only slightly smaller than her enclosed fist, not very large at all, but it was undeniably beautiful. The faint light emanating from the hanging crystals, the flickering orange light from the sparsely spaced torches, refracted through the intricate folds of Mezot’s creation. Anton’s first thought was of an ice-based sea urchin, it had hundreds of spikes emanating from the central core, all refracting the light in strange patterns along their lengths. The spikes didn’t press against her skin, rather hover just above that moved with her hand.

“Tell me.” Verona scratched her ear. “How did the Wyrm Heart help create this?” She peered closer to the ice structure. “Looks relatively simple to me.”

Mezot almost appeared offended. “It is extremely difficult.” She tapped one of the small spikes. “Each of these requires any extremely precise work of magic. Extremely precise.”

“Okay.” Verona stepped back, raising both of her hands. “Okay. Don’t get too worked up. Please?” She smiled at Anton. “We don’t want you to not succeed.”

“After seeing the basic expression for a simple piece of magic.” Anton frowned lightly. “I don’t want to know how messy the formula is for something like that.”

And you have to remember it completely, without referring to anything. I know I certainly couldn’t.

Mezot smiled. “It is very complicated. But I know they’ll be impressed.”

Cetina folded her arms. “Just one presentation and you become a lecturer?”

Mezot nodded.

Cetina laughed, her face quickly turned into a frown. “Do…Do you have to keep making new magic? Or even improvements to stay as a lecturer?”

“No,”

Anton shook his head. “I bet the others probably had their one hit and then have ridden on that, their one success, for several decades. Still need someone to teach the new students but…”

“Anton?” Verona tapped his hand.

“Sorry.” Anton gently waved his hand. “Got myself a little distracted there. Something…Anyway, are you prepared to deliver this?”

Mezot nodded. “I am.”

A silence settled over them.

“Well.” Anton clapped his hands together. “I think this was quite an entertaining evening. Except for what happened to that boy and what happened after dinner.”

“I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.” Axia laughed. “Most exciting thing that’s happened to me since spring.”

“What happened then?” Verona leant towards her, a wicked smile on her face. “Did you get invited out for a fancy meal? Where you could eat your fill?”

Axia laughed, playfully pushing away Verona, but everyone, except for Mezot, noticed that she refused to answer.

“Are you staying for the night?” Axia asked. “There are a lot of stores that you can visit here. Lots-”

“Food stalls?” Verona licked her lips. “The best food is the fresh food you cook yourself. Well, food that Anton and Kal cook, but those stalls are the second best. Dripping fats and oils, the smoke from roasting meat…”

“Such a one-track mind.” Anton ruffled her silver hair. “But we cannot. Tomorrow we’re going to be dealing with the Dwarves-”

“You know some of the Dwarves?” Axia’s eyes widened, even Mezot was intrigued. “You haven’t been in Boreana for long, haven’t you?”

“No. Somewhere else.” Anton smiled. “But let us know when you’re going to be presenting your thesis.” Anton tapped Mezot’s ice creation. “I’m certain they’ll be floored by this.”

“Thank you.” Mezot’s lips moved, no words emanated but the ice structure disintegrated.

“Oh. Take this.” Anton passed over a small purse of gold coins. Mezot hesitated but took the purse, she frowned as she bounced the coins, slightly concerned about the amount she knew was inside. Axia gasped when she pried it apart and saw the glint from the gold coins.

“I will repay this.” Mezot bowed her head.

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton smiled. “But use it if you need to get something.”

Mezot continued to look worried about the sheer amount of wealth he was flippantly giving her. Nevertheless, after a bump to the side from Axia, she accepted the gold.

Verona rested a hand on her hip. “Tell us when you’re ready to show those old buggers your new magic. I know I won’t understand a thing but I’m sure Anton will get something out of it.”

Anton simply hoped that Mezot wouldn’t fumble in front of such a large and potentially hostile audience. He could only hope.