Xandar hadn’t been to the Wish Chamber since his graduation. Though he frequented the library countless times, he had never ventured into the other two buildings. Students zipped past him like fleeting shadows as he traversed the university grounds, their faces reflecting a mix of fear, confusion and emergency - emotions that always seemed to follow Xadar around throughout his years as a student, especially the senior ones. He walked past classrooms and halls, weaving his way to the back of the Wish Chamber, where hidden storage and service rooms lay nestles. Among them, concealed from casual glances, was the door leading down to the cellars.
The building’s top floor housed laboratories and spaces where students could experiment and hone their magical skills. Granted, spells could be cast anywhere within the university’s confines, but the more complex and potentially dangerous incantations were restricted to the laboratories. Still, it was the ancient cellars where students sought refuge when they craved a quiet haven to practice, free from the watchful eyes of their instructors and teachers.
Xandar himself had ventured into the dim depth of the cellars on occasion, though not as frequently as some of his peers who had little patience for the university's pace and scant regard to its rules. That daring drive, combined with high ambitions, a thirst for power, and at times just plain, brainless curiosity, often resulted in those failed experiments that became the talk of the halls the following day.
They’ll have to find a new place for that now Xandar thought to himself as he opened the heavy door.
A sphere of light hung below the ceiling at the bottom of the stairs leading into the cellars, greeting Xandar with a soft, yellowish glow. It appeared Erdrik had arrived early. Further along the corridor, another radiant beacon beckoned him toward a vast hall. He passed a dark and seemingly deserted storage room on his way, continuing until the hallway opened up to reveal a larger room to his right. To his left, a narrow passage led to two more chambers, one of which emitted a warm glow and the sounds of enthusiastic activity.
Erdrik was busy clearing out the contents of a row of shelves that clung to one wall, gathering the discovered items into a basket and giving the cleared shelves a thorough dusting. He turned around when he heard Xandar’s footsteps approaching.
“Oh, hi there,” he said with a cheerful grin, “The staff were supposed to clear everything out of here, but it seems they missed a couple of details.”
A heavy desk was brought into the room, piled high with books Xandar had grown accustomed to seeing in Erdrik’s wardrobe back at the Barking Toad inn.
“So you've found my office. It still needs some tidying up, but it’ll be quite the cozy little nook once I’m done,” Erdrik beamed proudly.
Xandar swiveled his head around, taking in the surroundings.
“Come on, I'll show you the rest of the space,” Erdrik said, leaving the cloth on the shelf and leading the way. He was in high spirits that morning, Xandar noticed, but it was no surprise. If there was one thing that could get Erdrik excited, it was the prospect of work.
Two glowing orbs hovered at the far ends of the large hall, casting faint light. Most of the room remained cloaked in shadows. A pair of desks stood aligned against the right wall, while another faced the opposite one. Between the walls, shelves, closets and cabinets reached up to the ceiling, ready to be filled with all manner of curiosities. Chairs were pressed neatly beside each desk. Deeper into the hall, Xandar spotted another row of shelves, forming a dividing barrier.
“These are the main three spaces we'll be using. I’ve arranged for us to borrow up to five books each at a time, and we'll acquire more as needed, at least until my complete library arrives,” Erdrik explained, his excitement palpable, “There’s another desk beyond those shelves in case we need it.”
“That's a lot of space.” Xandar remarked.
“We're going to be a lot of people,” Erdrik declared with unwavering certainty.
“Have you found a new addition to the team yet?” Xandar inquired, avoiding mentioning Elderon’s absence, not wanting to dampen the mood. Despite the troubles the dark elf had caused them, he still felt uneasy thinking about him, and often wondered if his party had found a way to turn Elderon back or was he destined to live the remainder of his days as a demonic-looking insect.
“Not yet, but I’ve got interviews lined up with two more wizards today, and once they’re done, we’ll have another role to fill,” Erdrik informed him.
Xandar wasn’t entirely sure what that additional role might be, but he understood the necessity. Work had been abundant ever since they finished the translation job and returned to Rovalia. Some people knocked on Mr. Hamnik's workshop door, waving one of Xandar’s old pamphlets, others inquired about the mysterious “Mr. Havnar”, as rumors about the new magical operation he had brought into town began to circulate. Those were simple jobs at most, quick and easy enough for Xandar to handle on his own, with Erdrik’s assistance when things got too busy, but it was becoming apparent that more hands and minds were required to keep up with the growing demand.
“Well, this certainly beats that cramped room at the Barking Toad!” Xandar chuckled, smiling as he glanced around the spacious new workspace.
They devoted the majority of that first day at their new headquarters to cleaning and organizing the space. When Xandar came back the next morning, he found that Erdrik’s protocols, detailing the proper use of energy sources and circle casting, alongside several new instructions, had mysteriously found their way onto the walls above each desk.
Throughout the day, a small line of aspiring wizards waited in the hallway behind the door to Erdrik’s office. Most were fresh graduates, eager to step into the world of magic. But here and there, a couple of seasoned students, with their exams still ahead of them and an unwavering belief regarding their time management abilities, were enticed by the lucrative promise of pay to try their luck. Xandar toyed with the idea of mentioning the opportunity to Atli once more, but upon visiting the library, he discovered that the confused-looking wizard no longer worked there, and if rumors were true, had left town.
By the end of that day, after conversing at length with nearly ten different wizards, Erdrik emerged from his office accompanied by a young man in bright robes and wearing a large amulet, and walked up to Xandar’s desk.
“I want to introduce you to Xandar, our lead wizard. And, Xandar, meet Daernian, he will be teaming up with you in spellwork.” Erdrik proclaimed, his gaze shifting between the two wizards.
Daernian’s robes were red, an uncommon color for a wizard to wear in Rovalia, and the amulet around his neck appeared as though it was woven from the gnarled branches of a black tree. Amulets too were a rare sight among young wizards. They were possessions one either had to earn or to purchase, and most fledging wizards lacked both the experience to venture into places where amulets could be found, and the capital to acquire one.
Xandar stood up, extending his hand to meet Daernian’s eager grasp. “Well met! I’ve never seen these robes before. Where did you study?”
“The Start Path University,” Daernian burst out, as though the words could no longer be contained. “It’s far along the coast - a small, new university. Word of it hasn't reached far yet.” The wizard kept smiling as he spoke, and his eyes fixed on Xandar, seemed to sparkle with excitement.
“Have you heard of this Start Path university before?” Xandar pondered aloud once Daernian had departed. Having completed an integral portion of his spellwork, he prepared to conclude his day’s work.
Erdrik was still in his office, looking up when he saw Xandar at the entrance. “No, but there are many new universities sprouting out these days, it would be unreasonable to hear of each single one, right?” he raised his eyebrows, “But Daernian possesses knowledge I would expect to find in an experienced wizard, not a recent graduate. He has the right attitude too.”
“Attitude?”
“You know, the drive, the passion for magic. Graduating from a renowned university often produces students who are too stuck in their ways and think too highly of themselves. Our work requires a level of humility, openness to learning, and a lot of determination. Daernian seems to have all of those qualities.”
Xandar’s eyes flicked upward as the door to Erdrik’s office creaked open, and the leader of the wizard group emerged into the hallway. The man had been holed up in his office since before Xandar’s arrival, only now setting foot outside.
“I’m going out for a few hours,” Erdrik announced, his voice trailing off as he surveyed the hall with a hint of anticipation, “Did Daernian not arrive yet?”
Xandar shook his head. It had been well over an hour since he had descended into the cellar beneath the magic university, yet there was no sign of the new recruit.
“Let’s follow up on that, make sure it’s a one-time occurrence,” Erdrik instructed, his brow creasing with concern.
“Sure.” Xandar agreed, studying him closely. A bunch of scrolls seemed to be on the verge of spilling out from Erdrik’s bag.
“Advertisement?” Xandar probed, pointing to the scrolls.
“Help wanted.” Erdrik replied, showing no intention of elaborating. He was about to turn towards the exit when Xandar halted him.
“Another wizard?” he asked, “Doesn’t seem like we need one right now.”
Erdrik swiveled on his heels to face Xandar squarely. “We will eventually if all goes according to plan, but no, it’s not for a wizard,” he disclosed.
“Then what?” Xandar probed further, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“I need someone to assist me in managing our clients. Meeting new ones, hearing them out, answering their questions, that kind of thing.” Erdrik explained. He paused for a moment, waiting for another query from Xandar, and when none came, he added, “Any more questions?”
“Not at the moment.” Xandar said, taking the hint, and turned back to his desk.
It was quite some time later when the cellar door swung open, and with a spring in his step, someone skipped down the stairs. Xandar looked up just in time to see Daernian emerge into the main hall, a small parcel wrapped in paper clutched in one hand.
“Good morning!” Daernian greeted with infectious enthusiasm, casting a glance at the closed office door in the hallway to their right. “Is Erdrik out?”
“You’ve just missed him. He was wondering the same thing about you, to be honest,” Xandar said.
Daernian chuckled, seemingly undeterred. “Oh yes, I stayed up quite late last night, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem. Us wizards do our best work at night, do we not?” he winked.
“Sure.”
“Oh, and I also brought some pastries on my way,” Daernian added, remembering the parcel in his hand.
He approached Xandar’s desk, smiling relentlessly, and seemed unwilling to budge until Xandar unwrapped the paper, revealing blueberry scones. He waited until Xandar took one before finally stepping aside.
“So what sorcery are you conjuring?” Daernian asked, dragging a chair closer to Xandar’s desk, studying the scrolls that lay open before him. Xandar had just taken a bite of the scone and was chewing awkwardly, in a hurry to respond.
“Recently, there was a wave of adventurers coming to town, so we set up contracts with both the blacksmith and the shops to cater to all magic-related requests they receive,” Xandar explained, beaming with pride as he mentioned their association with the blacksmith. Their group owed that contract, at least partially, to his efforts and the work he had done for the blacksmith only days before.
“I bet in a city like this, they receive a lot of requests for magical enhancements,” Daernian said, smiling knowingly.
“And strange ones, too,” Xandar agreed. “Did you do much adventuring yourself?”
Dernian shrugged. “I tried adventuring a couple of times before. Never stayed with one group for too long, though.”
He must have noticed Xandar's suspicious look, because he immediately waved his hand dismissively, chuckling. “I’ll tell you all my crazy stories over a drink sometime.”
Xandar had no choice but to nod and agree.
“Anyway, we got a lot of orders for healing potions and amulets of protection. So, since healing and protection are somewhat the same concept - one healing damage already dealt, the other guarding against wounds yet to be afflicted - I'm trying to craft a basic spell that would serve both purposes. It will be triggered by another spell through which we can determine whether it's healing or prevention of injury. That way, we can reuse it for different requests," Xandar went on.
“Smart idea.” Daernian noted.
“It was Erdrik’s. But we have a bunch of other small requests; maybe you can take a look at some of these in the meanwhile,” Xandar said, getting up. On one of the shelves beside his writing desk lay a small pyramid of scrolls which he briefly inspected before selecting a handful and presenting them to Daernian. The wizard reached out with a curious gleam in his eyes.
“I suppose for now you should leaf through these, pick the ones that seem easiest to implement, and jot down any suggestions that come up. There's paper and ink on that shelf there,” Xandar pointed, “And we have a bunch of books if you need to research anything. If you can't find what you need here, we also have access to the university's library.”
Daernian listened with apparent impatience which he tried to conceal by never taking his eyes off Xandar as he spoke, nodding repeatedly.
“Oh, and if you need to experiment and test anything, there's a protocol on how to open an external energy source or cast a circle - if the spell calls for that - but we can talk about those when the need arises." Xandar added, causing Daernian to nod even faster, keen to get to work. He watched as the wizard carried the scrolls to the vacant desk at the opposite side of the room, then turned back, taking another bite from his half eaten scone before resuming his work.
A couple of hours later, when Xandar decided to refresh himself with a cup of tea, Daernian sprang from his seat as if he was waiting for a cue.
“Can I take a look at the other requests?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the shelf where the scrolls were piled.
Xandar was familiar with this type of behavior from his days as a student. The university teemed with such wizards - those flitting from one task to the other, interrupting themselves and everyone around them, trying to take on everything at once without completing a single assignment.
“Better finish with one of the scrolls I gave you first, then you can select a different one if you prefer,” Xandar suggested, trying to conceal his annoyance. Such individuals were not his preferred work companions. But Daernian's reply left him speechless.
“I'm already done with the others,” he said, brandishing a scroll filled to the brim with his sharp, messy, handwriting. “I haven't tested these yet, but the spells are complete.”
Xandar walked over and pulled the paper from Daernian's hand, examining the hastily written text. It might have been sloppy work, he thought to himself, wondering how Daernian had managed such speed.
“I know it seems like there's a lot of different requests, but they're all rather simple, really,” Daernian said with a shrug, as if answering Xandar’s thoughts. “We could test these together, if you like. It would be an excellent chance for you to demonstrate your source and circle casting protocols.”
“Sure,” Xandar muttered. “I'm just really in the middle of something right now, so perhaps a little later.”
“Of course. And in the meanwhile I can take a look at some of those other scrolls we have, just in case there's something quick and simple I can handle.” Daernian beamed.
He followed Xandar to the kitchen area - a dusty storage room where a kettle stood on an upturned crate alongside a jug of water and a small bag of tea leaves. There, he observed as Xandar employed his variation of the fireball spell, conjuring a net of glowing, molten light that lifted the kettle into the air, holding it afloat while the water inside boiled.
“Man, some of the requests we got sure are strange,” Daernian said conversationally. “I mean, I get the whole magical weapons thing - bows with enhanced aim or swords that can slice through any material - that's standard for adventurers. But a shield you can do your business on and it cleans itself up? Now that’s a novel idea! And what about the chain mail armor that washes you once a day…”
“Novice adventurers not used to life on the road?” Xandar suggested.
A soft bubbling sound emanated from within the kettle when the door to the cellar opened, accompanied by approaching footsteps.
“Erdrik, you're just in time! The tea is ready, and I bought scones!" Daernian exclaimed as Erdrik passed by the room, stopping in surprise.
“Oh, that's nice,” he said with hesitation, looking over to Xandar. “how are things going? Xandar, did you have a chance to go over some protocols with Daernian?”
Before Xandar could respond, Daernian interjected. “Xandar briefed me on all of them, though we haven’t had a chance to test them yet, as he’s been busy with his work and I did not want to interrupt. But I wrote spells for some of the requests we've got, so perhaps you could take a look at these. I would love to hear what you think of my work.”
With that, Daernian prepared two cups of tea before Xandar had a chance to pour his own, bringing them to Erdrik’s office. He returned for the scrolls he had been working on and the bag of scones, flashing Xandar a bright smile.
“You’ve already finished all of them?” Erdrik's astonished voice carried from his office just before they closed the door. Xandar frowned, attempting to tune out the sound of Daernian’s excited prattle and refocus on his own task.
Daernian was nowhere to be seen when Xandar entered the hall the following day too, however, Erdrik didn’t seem to mind. A line had formed outside of their leader’s door once more, but this time it consisted of young women, making it difficult for Xandar to concentrate. Women were a rarity at the magic university. Despite its proclamation of open enrollment to students of all genders, shapes, and even shades of invisibility, the murmur on the streets still proclaimed magic to be a male stronghold. The female students Xandar had encountered during his own years of study were few and used to being stared at.
“Could you spend some time testing with Daernien today?” Erdrik asked during one of his rare appearances outside his office, sandwiched between interviews. “I want to ensure he doesn’t start anything new until we’ve reviewed the spells he completed yesterday.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Xandar scratched his head. “Perhaps I can show him how to get started and then he can continue on his own? I’m still trying to finish this protection-healing spell, and I'm a little stuck on one particular part…”.
“We must be meticulous, especially with a new member. Protocol must be followed. Besides, I’m hoping to drop off some of his work to clients by week’s end, if all goes smoothly.” Erdrik rushed back to his office an instant later, leaving Xandar feeling defeated.
“Great,” he muttered under his breath.
He forced himself to ignore the line of young women in the hallway, even though a few shot curious glances his way, occasionally accompanied by smiles. He would complete his spell before Daernian’s arrival, Xandar decided, leaving ample time for him to help the new wizard test his spells without jeopardizing the timely completion of his task. Although he couldn’t fully keep this promise to himself, he did manage to unravel a problem that had baffled him for days, and when Daernian finally descended into the cellar, greeting the women in the hallway and flashing his radiant smile, Xandar felt somewhat relieved.
“What’s all this commotion about?” Daernian asked in hushed tones as they brewed tea, nodding towards the bustling hallway. He wore a mask of feigned annoyance and the illusion might have worked if not for the grin that refused to leave his face.
“Erdrik’s looking for some kind of assistant to help him with clients and such. I'm not really sure what that means.”
“It means that coming to work will be a bit more exciting.” Daernian winked.
The spells lined up for testing that day all dealt with weaponry, which, according to Erdrik, deemed them as potentially hazardous. This classification forced the two wizards to venture deep into the cellar’s forgotten passages and abandoned storage rooms in order to cast them.
“How do you find your way in this maze?” Daernian asked as they walked down a lengthy corridor that started at Erdrik's office door and submerged into inky darkness.
Xandar muttered a few words, conjuring a radiant orb to float alongside them and illuminate the dusty space.
He affectionately patted the wall, as if greeting an old friend. “Back when I was a student, this is where we’d come to practice spells, especially if we were experimenting beyond our curriculum.”
Daernian chuckled. “Never took you for a rebel.”
Xandar’s forehead creased but he said nothing. A part of him secretly hoped for the testing to go awry that day. Daernian’s pace of work appeared nearly implausible. If he could draft spells so swiftly, the quality and precision of his work must have been compromised. He tried to imagine Erdrik’s reaction upon discovering what portion of that impressive work was in fact nonfunctional and had to suppress a gloating grin.
They arranged a wicker target to put the swords to the test, and a red-painted circle on an empty barrel served as a bulls-eye when examining the bow’s accuracy. For each magically enhanced weapon in need of evaluation, there stood a simpler version which they were to test for the sake of comparison. Xandar expected Daernian to show impatience when he unveiled the scroll detailing the summoning of energy sources and protocols for circle casting. But the wizard surprised him, nodding profusely as Xandar walked him through the method.
“I must admit that I've never bothered with all of that myself - not since I graduated, that is - but it's refreshing to see such meticulousness.” Daernian commented when Xandar had finished.
Xandar scrutinized him closely as the wizard cast his spells upon the array of weapons, but found nothing out of the ordinary in his methods or demeanor. The exhilaration on his face as he tapped into the energy source was something Xandar himself had felt oftentimes, and the wild spark that danced in Daernian's eyes as he spoke the magical words was a sight often seen within the university’s arcane corridors. Magic tended to do that to people - some relished the buzzing surge of electric power more than others, yet no one was truly immune to its enchanting allure.
Xandar began to enjoy their experimentation despite himself. They took turns hacking at the wicker target, comparing the magically enhanced sword to its unaltered counterpart, and loosed arrows at the red-marked target atop the barrel. Xandar never boasted formal training in the art of weaponry, and it became increasingly evident that Daernian was just as unsure of the techniques, yet they both reveled in the simple joy of hacking, flinging, and demolishing objects with keen-edged tools.
Still, they would need to await the verdict of a skilled fighter, someone adept in the ways of combat, to validate the weapons’ improvements. But even with Xandar’s limited expertise and his newfound partners’ scarce knowledge, it was evident that enhanced arms were easier to work. They felt truer to their aim, nestled more comfortably within their grips, and zeroed in on their targets with an uncanny ease. It was almost as if the weapons developed a consciousness of their own, a consciousness that fixated solely on one purpose - to pierce, tear and cleave.
Balancing two barrels atop each other, they took turns throwing daggers at the upper barrel’s rim. Xandar tossed the final dagger, wincing as it cluttered to the floor, and said, “I think it's time to go test that shield…”
Daernian’s face brightened. “Oh, you mean the shield of ‘Leave no Trace’? That's what I call it. Of course, have a blast!”
Xandar sniggered, a touch of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. Nonetheless, he accepted the shield, an illuminating orb floating above his head, and stepped out into the dim corridor beyond.
“Sure you won't get lost in there?” Daernian’s voice trailed after him.
“I’ve been to these passages so many times that I could navigate them blindfolded,” Xandar’s reply echoed back.
He strolled, the clatter of blades hitting wood and clinking against the stone floor fading into distant echoes, and turned to his business. Upon his return later, elated to share the successful outcome with Daernian and entertaining the idea that such an artifact might gain popularity among the general population, Xandar became aware of the sound of whispers. He turned around, searching for the source of the hushed voice - a student perhaps sneaking around, dabbing with forbidden enchantment, or worse, a failed spell’s aftermath haunting in the cellar’s shadows. But the sound seemed to originate from the hallway ahead, from the very same room he and Daernian had occupied for their trials.
At first Xandar hastened his pace, thinking that Daernian might be in danger, yet it soon dawned on him that the murmuring voice was none other than the wizard’s own. He tiptoed forward and listened. The rhythm of the muttering was peculiar, punctuated by elongated pauses and rushed phrases. Xandar took a few more hesitating steps forward, careful not to make a sound, and managed to make out a small assortment of words: “Not this one.. there will be an.. I will find.. have I.. before?”
A lengthy silence stretched, before the clatter of daggers upon wood resumed. Backtracking slowly, Xandar retraced his steps, then abruptly turned back, ensuring his every footfall was audible on the stone cellar floor. He cleared his throat, scraped the shield against the wall and did whatever he could to convince Daernian he was merely retracing his path, oblivious to the eccentric exchange he had overheard.
Erdrik's door was shut upon their return, the wooden surface muffling the chatter of conversation within. Just one more spell remained to be tested - the protection incantation, designed to enshroud its recipient in battle, fending off bodily harm. It was an easy spell to cast but a difficult one to plan - you couldn’t let it perpetually flow, since it would require too much energy, yet deducing the trigger for its activation, the inception of battle, was tricky. Xandar marveled at Daernian’s solution: the wizard suggested tying the spell to the warrior's sword, and activating it through the rhythm of breath.
“It would be short-lived, but then again, most battles are.” Daernian explained to Xandar.
“Why the sword? And why breath? The rhythm of breath could be affected by fear, even if there is no battle taking place”
Daernian grinned like a cat. “Breath alone isn’t the trigger. The speed must also match that of physical exertion. It's one thing when fear causes the pulse to race, but movement has a different rhythm. In battle, the tempo increases, but so does heat. And I know, a shield might seem perfect for protection spells, but it’s actually easier with a sword - one would not draw it if they didn't need to fight. The blade’s unsheathing combined with the speed and warmth of breathing will activate the spell, but not either one on its own.”
Erdrik seemed to approve of Daernian's ideas as well since their meeting the other day to review the spell went faster than Xandar had expected. The protection spell was the only one the two wizards couldn’t test out - neither possessed the skill nor the will to imitate a real battle. Such a test required subjects, and in order to find them, they needed Erdrik. By unspoken consensus it was agreed that it wasn’t a wizard's job to roam around the town's taverns in search of people dumb, poor or drunk enough to agree to have a spell tested on them. It would simply be undignified, besides, wizards were potent in spells, not in persuasion.
They were chatting in the little storage room, watching the kettle levitate on the net of fire when Erdrik finally emerged from his office.
“Just make sure they are not too drunk. We need them capable of wielding weapons without jeopardizing us or themselves, alright?” He was saying, the volume of his voice rising as he leisurely made his way along the corridor. Someone was walking beside him, and when they passed by the kitchen entrance, Xandar and Daernian caught a glimpse of a young woman who watched him wide eyed, slowly nodding in response.
Erdrik halted by the entrance to the kitchen after guiding the young woman out.
“Did you already hire an assistant?” Xandar asked, incredulous.
Erdrik shook his head. “No one's hired yet. I just gave her a test, and from what it looks like, she won't be coming back. Great girl, but too shy, that one.”
“Brilliant idea!” Daernian chimed in, “Evaluating the candidates and advancing our work at the same time! And not a moment too soon, since I just finished testing all the other spells.” With a slight pause, Daernian remembered to add, “Xandar was a great help.”
Erdrik’s short, stout eyebrows elevated in surprise. “So everything other than the protection spell is done?”
“Sure is, Xandar can confirm.” Daernian said eagerly. Erdrik shifted his gaze between the two wizards, and Xandar shrugged.
“Looks good to me,” he said.
“Well, that's great news. We might finalize testing today, and tomorrow, I'll deliver this work to our clients. Daernian, you could join me.” Erdrik said, adding the invitation as an afterthought.
Xandar sensed his fists clenching, quickly releasing them in hopes on one had noticed. Throughout the day, Daernian's pleasant company, smiles and jests, had almost evaporated Xandar’s innate dislike towards the fellow wizard, but seeing the way he spoke to Erdrik reassured his doubts. Suddenly, Daernian appeared too nice, too eager and too good to be true.
“But you said that that girl you've sent on the assignment is not likely to return,” Xandar noted, “So we might not have anyone to test on today.”
“Oh, but I didn't send just her, of course. I gave the assignment to two other candidates I felt had the right qualities.” Erdrik said, adopting a lecturing tone. “When testing a spell that takes a long time to activate, you don't just cast it and sit back and wait. You use the time to get other tasks done, right? Similarly, when seeking employees, I cannot hinge on a single choice. I must have backup candidates at the ready in case my initial choice turns out wrong.”
“That is very wise.” Daernian nodded when Erdrik was finally done talking, but Erdrik's unchanging countenance suggested that the man was immune to flattery.
“Well then, I have work to get back to. I had nothing but meetings in the last five hours!” Erdrik said, ending the sentence with one bark-like laugh. Daernian rushed to follow, forgetting all about the tea, and leaving Xandar alone in the kitchen room.
Xandar decided to see his mission through and prepare the tea. He had no need to tiptoe around Erdrik to prove his worth; his spellwork spoke for itself. True, he had fallen behind, tangled in the clutches of a troublesome sentence he couldn’t quite get right, but racing to outpace Daernian would only breed sloppy work. Let Daernian rely on smiles and flattery, he resolved, he wouldn’t be dragged into that game.
He returned to his workbench full of determination, vowing to remain glued to his seat until the spell was perfected. He stayed true to his word a few hours later when a stampede of footsteps reverberated from the stairwell, heralding the entrance of a woman flanked by two men. Daernian was about to leave, loitering near Erdrik’s office in an attempt - though an ineffective one - to spark a casual conversation, when the trio entered the main hall. He spun around in surprise.
“As you requested, two willing test subjects,” The woman said.
Xandar watched the events unravel with mild curiosity, his focus still lingering on those twisting, elusive words that defied his mastery. But he did recognize the young woman; it was the very same candidate Erdrik had deemed too shy to succeed in her mission. She was round faced and spoke in a gentle, quiet voice.
“We’ve settled on five coppers for their contribution.” She promptly added.
“And we'll still return in time before the tavern closes its doors, you said,” one of the subjects interjected, his tone carrying a slight hint of a slur.
“If all goes well,” Erdrik replied, stepping out to greet them.
“Xandar, could you lead us to the testing chamber?” Erdrik turned to him, but before he could respond, Daernian jumped in.
“I remember the way,” he assured Erdrik, and for once, Xandar was grateful for his annoying enthusiasm.
He resumed his own experiments with the magical words, and would not have stopped until he succeeded in his task if not for the scream. There were hints of commotion earlier - an echoing tapestry of voices, shouts, and resounding clash of metal on metal - but this cry was unlike the playful banter of youths challenging each other. It was raw and full of pain. Without thinking, Xandar catapulted from his seat and sprinted forward.
He arrived to find one of the test subjects clutching a blood-smeared sword with a limp grip, his eyes resembling saucers as he babbled, “I swear, I didn’t even swing the thing! The sword, it moved on its own! Wasn’t aiming even, missed by a mile!”
Amidst the chaos, Erdrik, Daernian and the girl - Xandar had heard Erdrik refer to her as Sheila - engaged in a heated argument, ignoring him. Nearby, the other man lay sprawled on the ground. His sword was yards away, his fingers clenched tight on his chest, blood seeping from between them.
“I cast healing, but it didn’t work!” Daernian protested.
“So you cast it wrong! It can't just not work!" Erdrik bellowed in response, rubbing his face in frustration. He dropped to his knees beside the wounded man, muttering under his breath, readying himself to cast his own spell.
Sheila hopped to the other side of the injured body and was trying to stop the bleeding with the hem of her skirt. It took a few moments for Xandar to snap out of the shock that had gripped him. He knew he had to act, but his limbs were like stubborn logs refusing to cooperate. After a determined effort, he managed to move one leg forward, shattering the shackles of his shock.
A healing spell was poised at the tip of his tongue when he rushed to kneel beside the wounded man. It was a simple spell he had practiced countless times, but something felt odd as he began to cast it. There was an unfamiliar resistance, like an unseen aura engulfing the man, resisting his magic and slowing its potency. Across from him, Erdrik gaze bore into the injured man, his expression almost accusing, while his lips moved relentlessly, casting spell after spell. Sheila persisted with her improvised bandaging, and even Daernian stopped arguing and stood silent and focused, his hand raised and his lips moving.
Xandar cast one spell, then another, beginning to feel his limbs growing heavy and his head light. Gradually, he sensed the resistance diminishing, like the pull of an ocean tide retreating at last.
“There, the bleeding’s easing!” Sheila exclaimed, a mixture of excitement and trepidation in her voice. She hesitantly withdrew her makeshift bandage and Xandar watched as the wound mended, the flesh knitting itself, sealing. He knew that the same process was taking place inside the body as well, repairing cuts and fractures. Encouraged by this success, he summoned the last of his energy, casting one final spell before collapsing back on his haunches, drained.
They paid the two men - a bit more than initially promised, as compensation for their troubles. Sheila escorted them off the university premises - one still in shock and the other lightheaded and bloodstained but alive.
“I still don't understand what went wrong,” Erdrik slammed the cellar door shut and promptly cast a locking spell on it. They had finished tidying up and were slowly making their way outside. “I read your spell, and it seemed correct, so how could it have failed?”
The night air greeted them with a chilly embrace, sending a pleasant shiver down Xandar’s spine.
“I don't know either, maybe it was because they were drunk?” Daernian offered.
Erdrik gave him a curious look. “If the success of your spells depends on the amount of drink a person consumes, then we have some serious issues!” He punctuated this with one of his trademark sarcastic chuckles.
“Of course they don't...” Daernian tried to object, but his retort seemed feeble and indecisive, leaving plenty of room for Erdrik to cut him off.
“Clear your mind today, correct the spell tomorrow. I'll be away with Sheila, delivering the other weapons. At least those spells didn’t get anyone killed tonight. Let's not repeat mistakes like this one again.” he concluded.
Xandar's stomach was rumbling as he made his way back home but he was too tired to stop at a tavern. Instead, he stumbled back to his modest dwelling atop Mr. Hamnik’s workshop and shared the remnants of a dried sausage with Alberon.
“I'll get more for you tomorrow.” he assured the cat.
An image appeared before his eyes just as sleep’s tendrils curled around his consciousness - a replay of that frantic scene, with the injured man sprawled and both he and Erdrik casting their incantations. Yet his attention wasn’t on their conjurations, but on Daernian. The wizard lingered a few paces behind, his eyes wide with trepidation as his lips moved. In that instance, it didn’t strike Xandar as odd, but in the darkness of his room, as his thoughts drifted away from reality, a suspicion crept in. Was Daernian truly casting a healing spell, or was it something altogether different?