Life brings forth unique circumstances... Those unique circumstances attracted many, they flocked to the unknown like moths to a flame. I never considered myself one of them, I much rather preferred the mundane. Some kind of order in what I saw as a chaotic world.
But life on a farmstead never sounded appealing. Life on the factory floor is even less so. But what piqued my interest from the earliest memories I have, those I chose to keep, is science. The natural world and its inexhaustible mysteries.
That's why I chose the life of a student. Mundane and orderly.
The scientific method tries to find order in chaos. To document and organize vast amounts of information. To find dots and connect them into a complex web of interwoven information that explains the unexplainable. And ultimately, make something from it. The simplicity of boiling water and the complexity of mechanical contraptions are at first glance completely different things... Yet if you combine them, you get the steam engine.
Despite all of its laws and rules, your imagination is the limit in science. Nothing is impossible when you are determined enough.
I am told that my mind works differently than those around me and that I am gifted... I simply see it as seeing order where none seems to be.
In a roundabout way, I am also an adventurer attracted to the unknown, like a moth to a flame. But I do not seek to experience high tales or become a hero in some story, no... I seek answers.
And to find them you must let yourself drown in the chaos and uncertainty of this world. And hope to the Gods, if there are any, that you will swim back up.
But to some questions... I hope I won't find them. I hope I remain blissfully ignorant. To stay in my little comfortable bubble.
Like in the case of where I find myself now.
In history class.
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„Wyatt!“ I heard a familiar voice say my name in a sort of whisper-yell, followed by a not-so-gentle kick on my shoulder.
„Yeah, I'm awake... Just resting my eyes.“ I replied in a drowsy and bored tone, my half-closed eyes gazing through the professor babbling on about something. My mind wanders everywhere, just not here. I faintly hear the professor saying something about the borderlands... A town or place called A- something something.
„Darren, when's the class ending...?“ I asked, my eyes still closed and my mind somewhere between being alive and dead.
„Wait... Any second now.“ Darren replied after looking down at his wristwatch, trying to not look suspicious, or like he wasn't paying attention, but he was paying attention, unlike me... He was at least trying.
There is quite a reprimand for talking during class, this ain't elementary school. But the professor couldn't care less... He was too busy explaining the intricacies of the geopolitical situation we Humans find ourselves in. He wasn't a good speaker, and he was boring, but he wasn't all too strict. At least he had that going for him.
„Want to grab a coffee after class?“ I asked Darren, ever so slightly turning my head in my palm to have him in my peripheral vision.
„Unlike you, I am not an insomniac. And I have another class after this.“ Darren replied half-heartedly.
Damn, he sure wasn't in the mood today. I thought to myself, before realizing he also said he was having another class. It took me a few moments before my gears finally started to turn.
„Why are you attending Magical Sciences?“ I asked him, opening my eyes fully to look at him. He was not amused.
Just when he went to reply the bell rang. And without missing a beat Darren grabbed his bag and blitzed out of the classroom. I quickly followed behind him, catching up to him in the hallway.
„Wyatt I already told you a million times Magic is also a science like the name itself implies.“ Darren told me as soon as I was beside him.
„Yes, I agree, magic is a 'science' to be studied... But you can't use it! I can't use it! No purebred human can use it. Unless you grow a pair of Elven ears or dig up something from your ancestry that shows you have at least one Elven ancestor in the last three centuries, then okay, I would understand. But I know you don't, neither do I nor does anyone in this city or west of the Lydas river.“ I explained.
Just when I finished Darren stopped, and looked at a door. On the door were the initials „M.S“ and a note saying that this class was not going to be held due to the professor's absence.
„Son of a bitch...“ Darren said. „I can't believe I have to explain this again... But alright. We humans might not be able to wield magic. That much is obvious because we do not have any essence, unlike the Elves who have it in droves. Magical Sciences is not about learning spells, that is Magic Craft. Magical Sciences studies what is essence, how it came to be, and how it could be used for the betterment of mankind. But, for all the mysteries that present... The biggest and most pressing mystery, for me at least, is why of all people do you not understand... Refuse to understand!“ Darren responded.
„I know, that you know, why that is. I respect that you don't want to bring back some...“ I winced slightly „Bad memories...“
„I know, that you know, that I know about all of that... Listen, I don't like the Elves as much as the next guy, but for yourself Wyatt, just let it go. Magic doesn't automatically mean it is Elf-specific. Other beings have essence other than Elves. Just quit being irrational, at least let me study what I want. I don't criticize your love of physics and maths, as much as I hate both.“ Darren said, this time in a more empathetic tone. I understood him, I was being irrational... I just couldn't help but somehow associate those blurry images in my mind with Magic... Trauma finds excuses, I guess.
„Then... If you wouldn't like coffee... How about an enchanted coffee?“ I asked Darren, he gave a short laugh and patted me on my back.
„Make it a whisky, you're paying. Can't juggle classes and your annoying ass all day without compensation.“ Darren said as he began walking.
„Fair enough... Wouldn't want you to grow Elf ears because of some enchanted coffee.“ I said.
„Yup, but that whisky ought to be enchanted... Just don't tell Christy. She'll cut my ears off“
„I gotchu brother, dont'ya worry. How about we go to The Den?“ I asked.
„That dump... Alright, we don't have anything tomorrow.“
„Then we better catch the first tram on Wolfram's Street.“ I patted his back as we made our way to exit the university and spend our stipend wisely.
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We sat down in The Den, in all of its tobacco and alcohol-filled glory. We always considered ourselves outsiders here. Two students from a prestigious university with free housing and a hefty stipend in a bar frequented by city folk and factory workers. But I managed to fit in somewhat, being from the countryside and having a not-so-fortunate upbringing gave me something to relate with the other guests. Darren on the other hand was a Weser Old Guard, well, his family was. Hailing from the old city, the son of a minor noble. Now his family is in the business of factory production and the fledgling rail industry. But be it for a tired factory worker coming back from his shift, or for a student coming from a stressful day of studies... The Den is the place to be for a drink to calm those nerves.
Once we ordered our drinks, two whiskies, Darren began after a small sip of his drink.
„Listen, man, sorry for being a bit grumpy today. Had a damn long day... And a few issues. But that still doesn't invalidate what I said. You can be a bit irrational sometimes when it comes to some things. Especially in regards to magic, I understand your aversion, but it doesn't hurt to dig into it a little.“
I thought for a moment before replying.
„Is it Christy?“ I asked.
„I really don't want to talk about it now...“
„Aye, I understand...“ Better not to pry into things.
„About that... The magic thing. What is there really to dig into? Yeah, I understand the question of understanding the root of where magic comes from and answering certain questions that are connected to it. The realm of magic is something that is not entirely natural... It is supernatural. The laws of the universe as we know them would not permit magic to exist. It defies logic. One cannot create something from nothing, you cannot physically manifest a fireball. You cannot defy gravity and fly without propulsion. Magic is something that is out of my reach, and there exist people such as yourself who are much more well-suited to research such topics than I am.“ I presented my argument. Well, more of an excuse.
Darren looked at me, taking another swig of his whisky.
„Say, for example, you went back in time. With, I don't know, a train... No, something smaller. A gramophone. And if you were to show it to one of our ancestors three hundred or four hundred years ago. A device that can play sound that was previously recorded. They would think that you were a Mage or some sort of artificer who imbued a physical object with essence. But both of us know that isn't the case. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. We had no way to explain the movement of the stars, why it rained, why things go down instead of up when you dropped them. The most basic questions every child would know today stumped the greatest minds of yesterday. We are those great minds that are stumped by questions that will be common knowledge in a century. And that question, for me at least, is the root if all essence.“ Darren replied.
„You are right, but ultimately you can only work with theory. Magic might be like mathematics, you have a problem which you have to solve. You can find some answer to X but you can never truly prove it because you'll need empirical evidence. You'll need to test your theory, but no mages are lining up to volunteer for your experiments. On a human level, the most magical thing we have is a gramophone... And the old Elven grimoires only teach so much. I would guess that they only teach technique, spells, and incantations. For the Elves magic is a tool to be used, a tool that they take for granted. They don't need to know every minuscule detail of the spell to cast it. They don't need to know exactly how it works in order for it to work. Don't get me started on the genetic parts of it. Essence is hereditary... Halflings taught us that much.“ I said.
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„I agree... We can have all the papers we want but they mean nothing if we can't put any of it into practice... Magic is supernatural, it defies physics as we know it, as you've said yourself. But it exists, hence there must be an answer explaining how it works... I don't know really...“ Darren took another sip and massaged his temples. I thought about changing the topic because I saw however much love he had for the subject, he had enough of other subjects crammed into his head for today... I felt the same... But, yeah... Supernatural.
Supernatural.
„Darren, do you know Professor Chrisler?“ I asked him, he looked up at me and shook his head.
„He's an old physics professor who's retired. I had a few classes with him a while back. Fascinating guy, he knows what he's talking about... I struck up a conversation with him once after class and he told me of a new emerging field of physics. The study of matter and energy at the most fundamental level. It's called quantum physics, or mechanics... Can't remember. I don't know much about the topic, but he did mention some things that they observed in there, mostly pertaining to light. Wherein light acts as both a particle and a wave at the same time... It is simply, unexplainable. By our current knowledge of physics at least...“ I recalled the exchange I had with Professor Chrisler... Somehow... It seems magic might have something to do with this.
„Interesting...“ Darren took a swig of his whisky, finishing it. „Quantum... What do you call it? It might as well be the key to understanding the fundamental principles of magic. But we have some time until that happens... In the meantime, I'll have another whisky.“ Darren replied.
I took a hearty swig of my own drink, finishing it.
„I'll have another as well... Let's change the topic, enough school for today.“
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It's all a bit of a blur, instead of stopping when we should. Well, we continued to the point where all I remember was that I didn't have to tell Darren's girl anything... That woman has a wicked intuition, and she found us. I don't know whether I should be jealous or thankful I don't have the same problem as him. But the more pressing issue was the resounding headache I faced once I woke up in my apartment the next morning. I was still half-dressed when I woke up in my bed.
After I got up I tried my best to freshen up by washing my face with cold water. I thought it would jog up my memory so I could remember what the hell happened last evening. But alas it didn't work.
The next thing I checked was my pockets. I still had my money... Less than I previously remembered, but I had it.
„I had 57 Gelders and 13 Crowns...“ I started counting the coins and paper money while sitting on my bed.
„35 Gelders and 10 Crowns... Shit.“ I spent 22 Gelders and 3 Crowns on booze... A model student of Weser Polytechnic, if I do say so myself. And they said being good at mathematics meant you're good with finances... A lie.
At least I can count my losses.
I crashed onto my bed again, eager to sleep off the hangover. But my attempt at that was cruelly interrupted by a knock at my door. I opened my eyes and went through the possibilities. It could be Darren, trying to ascertain what the hell happened last night. It could be Christy, eager to kick my ass for drinking her boyfriend half to death, he did agree to it, or the local Militia ready to arrest me for drunken misbehavior the previous night... Or all of the above... Who knows? I wasn't ready to play this game of chances, but my hand was forced.
I got up, took a deep breath, walked slowly to the door.
Then opened it.
„Good morning, mail for a Wyatt Rosallyn?“ The man in front of me was a mailman. I felt relief wash over me.
„Yeah, that's me.“ I replied.
„Okay, I just need you to sign this here and I'll be on my way.“ Sign? That feeling of relief quickly turned into a bottomless pit in my stomach. I audibly gulped.
„A-alright...“ I said, grabbing the pen from the mailman and signing a paper with a bunch of text that I didn't even have time to read. I didn't even think of it in the moment...
After signing the mailman handed me an envelope. It had a government stamp.
„That's it. Have a good day Mr. Rosallyn!“ The mailman tipped his hat and left.
„You too...“ I looked down at the envelope, thinking through what it could be.
I closed the door and went to have a seat on a chair next to a window overlooking the street below. I could hear the morning chatter of pedestrians and the beating of hooves against the pavement. I simply tried to clear my mind before opening it. It couldn't be from Weser Polytechnic, I know what their stamp looks like... Thankfully it isn't from Weser Polytechnic, that would mean they found out about my shenanigans last night... And that would mean they are kicking me out, but neither that would make any sense. I heard much worse stories from other students and they are still attending. Being drunk for one night is not an expellable offense, I'm a goddamn adult...
But a government stamp... It is something entirely unrelated. And it could be something a thousand times worse... Or it could be nothing.
I grabbed a knife from the small kitchen I had and began slowly and carefully opening the envelope. Once I did, I grabbed the piece of paper held within.
Upon letting it see the morning sun... I unraveled it.
In big bold letters on the top of the paper was written :
INHERITANCE NOTICE
I started reading.
Deceased person: Kellynstir Rosallyn III
Beneficiary/ies: Wyatt Rosallyn, Kyiela Phormos
I had to rub my eyes, I didn't know anyone from my family called Kellynstir... Weird name, sounded old-fashioned. I never got to know much of my family... Neither have they gotten to know me. So, why am I here? And who is this Kyiela Phormos. Another weird name. Another distant relative? The last name is different, never heard of it. Maybe it's regional.
But what I was interested in was what exactly was being inherited. So I continued reading.
The beneficiary/ies listed above are entitled to assets and liabilities which shall be listed below...
Wyatt Rosallyn –
17 (Seventeen) Ar's of land in the Aeris District, land designation 16,002/5.
20,520 (Twenty thousand five hundred and twenty) Gelders in liquid assets.
A wagon
Kyiela Phormos –
20,900 (Twenty thousand nine hundred) Gelders in liquid assets
A wagon
Two Shirebreed horses (Lyn, Phinn)
The contents of the Rosallyn Library
„Twenty... Thousand...“ I slowly said under my breath. I never knew I had any distant relatives, let alone that they were absolutely loaded! Seventeen Ar's of land is also quite a significant amount. And in the Aeris District of all places... I heard of the Aesir District a bunch, but I didn't know much about it save for some common knowledge... Then my brain went back to the history class of yesterday.
Aesir was a minor trade hub in what we today call the borderlands just beyond the Lydas river to the east. It was a settlement inhabited by both Humans and Elves, with a small but transient population of other races at its peak roughly 250 years ago. The border region which is named after it today lies between the Confederation of Human Republics and Kingdoms and the Elven Lands. Depopulated and destitute. A husk of its former self. The Aesir District today is the only region inhabited by a small number of Elves and Humans under de facto human control.
I put the piece of paper down on the table and stared at the ceiling.
Is this some sort of dream? A prank? A scam? The stamp looked legit, the same with the paper.
Did the government take the money and can I just pick it up in a bank? Do I have to go to Aesir to retrieve it? Well... There were other things I needed to do.
But then again... Kyiela also got over twenty thousand, even more than me...
And...
The Rosallyn Library?
I was too hungover to think over those things... Too much. What I needed was a map and a confirmation that this was legit.
I washed myself, properly this time, got dressed fully, and left my apartment with an envelope in hand. My first stop was the local government office. I thought maybe someone could check the validity of the stamp, just in case.
I got onto a tram and was making my way to the office when I passed the bank. I decided to exit the tram right there and go check how much I had.
I entered the bank and waited in line for a few minutes, thankfully there was not a lot of traffic this morning.
„Good morning, I uhhh... I need to check the balance of my account. Wyatt Rosallyn.“ I said.
I could see the female clerk seemed to be taken aback a bit upon seeing me. I figured it probably wasn't love at first sight, but rather the fact I looked like a frantic and disheveled hungover drunk. Which I was in every sense of the word...
„Of course, sir. I'll just need your documents and identification.“ She asked politely. I handed over the things she asked and she disappeared in the back for a few minutes. She returned with a few pieces of paper.
„Mr. Rosallyn, your current balance is 20,523 Gelders and 56 Crowns.“ She smiled politely. I on the other hand was slack-jawed for a few moments.
Holy shit it's not a scam... And Gods bless our quick bureaucracy.
„How... What's the limit of withdrawal... How much can I withdraw at once?“ I asked sheepishly, swinging my head around and looking at the other clients... I was nervous.
„That would be 1,000 Gelders every week, Mr. Rosallyn.“
„One thou-... I'd like to withdraw that amount, one thousand, if that is possible?“
„Of course Mr. Rosallyn, give me a few moments.“ She smiled politely before going to some back room.
She was gone for maybe five minutes tops... But it felt like she was gone for hours. I nervously shook my leg in place.
I felt sick. I didn't know whether it was from the hangover or from the simple fact that I now had access to more money than I ever had. Both probably.
She finally came back with a stack of twenty 50 Gelder notes. She quickly counted the amount and placed it on the table.
„Here you go sir, I'd just need you to sign this paper here. Any withdrawal higher than 500 Gelders needs a signature.“ She presented me with the paper, which I signed without hesitation.
„Thank your fo-„ The woman started but I grabbed the money and left as quickly as possible from the bank. Mighty impolite from me, but I had other matters I had to attend to.
My next stop then was the Weser Polytechnic Library, a local library would suffice but I had instant access to the WP Library due to me being a student there. After another quick tram trip, I was there.
The first thing I asked for was for latest map of the Human Realms.
I was given instructions on where to look and I began my search, row after row of books about geography...
In the middle of my search, I heard a familiar voice.
„Wyatt?“ I turned around and saw the familiar sight of blonde hair and cold blue eyes, lo and behold, it was Christina... Christy.
„I- ugghh, I can explain everything I sincerely apologize for making Darren drunk. It won't happen again. Anyway how's Darren holding up?“
She gave me a look of pity and disgust.
„Wyatt you look like shit. And Darren is fine, he's hungover. But you really should go home you look like you've seen a ghost. What are you doing in the library?“ She asked me.
At first, it looked like she would give me hell for last night, Darren got the short end of the stick for sure but I wasn't immune. But it seemed like the state in which I was warranted some sympathy. So it was really bad.
„Listen, Christina, I had a few things happen this morning. Nothing bad per se... But significant. And I will probably be out of town for a day, maybe two. So, you can tell Darren I'm doing just great. And I'll be back in a few days, I'll explain everything.“ I told her while simultaneously flipping through a geography book.
„Wyatt, I don't know what happened. I still have a bone to pick with you too... But I'll leave it for another time. I'll tell Darren you're fine. I'll leave you to it, whatever you're searching for. I have an Anatomy class soon.“ She told me.
I stopped flipping through the book for a second.
„On a weekend?“ I asked, slightly disturbed.
„On a weekend. Good luck on your trip, be safe.“
„Thanks...“ I looked back into the book. I found it.
„Oh, and yeah. Christy?“ She turned back around.
„How bad was it?“ I asked.
„I had to call the Royal Guard to help me drag you two out of that place. I took care of everything else.“
„Thank you.“
„No need... Don't do it again.“ She gave me a look that made me shudder before she walked off.
After that encounter, I sat down in the library to more closely examine the book I found. I found the map I was looking for.
I managed to locate the Aesir District, but I still had to find out where exactly the land I inherited was. The district wasn't as small as I had previously thought. And it was quite far off to make things worse. The nearest train stop was right next to the western bank of the Lydas River. After that, I'd probably have to pay a toll to cross the bridge as well as a carriage to take me across. The infrastructure in the region was probably the same as it was a century or two ago. So I'll be away for more than a few days... Weeks probably... I'll have to take care of my absence from classes as well.
I also had to search around for a map of the Aesir District, specifically the land designations. After what felt like hours of riffling through various books and maps, I finally found it. The land I inherited seemed to be somewhere in the middle of Aesir, right between the Lydas and the border of the Elven Lands.
I'll do what I don't usually do.
I'll wing it.
After all was said and done next stop was the train station, right after I packed the things I'd need for the trip. I'll take care of any shitshow I may cause later. I needed answers.
Who is Kellynstir? And most importantly, who is Kyiela Phormos? And what lies on the property I inherited?