Chapter 11: Rewards
“It looks like a delegation from the Spirit Realm,” Raimund whispered as he reached down to grab Mercedes’s wrist. “I’m going to cast a small illusion over you. Whatever happens, keep your head down, keep moving, and try not to make a sound.”
The Sparrow nodded, sensing through his words and demeanor that the Mystic’s fear was for her rather than himself.
[Disciple Raimund is using [Illusory Shroud] to disguise your appearance.]
[Illusion Duration: 29 minutes and 59 seconds.]
Mercedes shivered as a tingling blanket of magic wrapped around her, tightening the green cloak against her skin and garments. Once the spell had shrouded her from head to foot, the Mystic let go of her hand and proceeded forward slowly. The albino followed close behind, hugging the small space he left her along the wall.
The Sparrow pressed a hand on the translucent barrier to steady herself, blinking in surprise when she realized she no longer had a reflection but appeared to merge into the Disciple’s shadows. She exhaled quietly, impressed by the ginger Mystic’s capabilities, and made a mental note to learn this useful skill later.
With her vision partially obscured, Mercedes could only rely on her other heightened senses, which she had trained in the dark halls of Eldermoor Keep to hunt and avoid danger. The narrow arcane hallway around them created a natural echo chamber, which layered the sound of footsteps headed towards them, hampering her ability to detect the number of Soul Reavers ahead. The albino focused on the cadence of their footsteps, ignoring the overlap as best she could while attempting to identify a unique identifier for each set.
‘Two…four…possibly five?’
A tingling chill washed over her as the Sparrow glimpsed the approaching group reflected on the hall’s pale blue glass windows. Five men and a woman, though she could barely tell them apart. They were all tall, with dark skin, and had long, ebony brown hair woven into dreads heavily streaked with what appeared to be a light cyan dye. They each wore matching uniforms of dark navy blue embroidered with silver runes that blended into the ghostly depictions of what looked like vengeful spirits running down their sleeves.
A similar electric blue gleamed against the Soul Reavers' dark autumn bronze skin in painted hieroglyphs that started below their left eye and ran down their cheek and neck, where it disappeared under the collars of their uniform. The glowing images of either a skull, snowflake, or the etching of a lightning bolt shimmered beneath the ethereal light radiating from their pale blue eyes that turned in unison to focus on Raimund, who stilled briefly to offer the group of five Mystics a respectful bow.
The Soul Reavers gave no greeting in return, though they filed into line one after another to allow the ginger Disciple space to continue forward.
As they moved past each other, Mercedes noticed the youngest among them, whose bronze cheeks held not a single painted image, though his shoulder-length hair was similarly braided and dyed.
“Wait!” the Mystic, who led the delegation at the front, called out as his electric gaze swiveled in their direction. “You. Disciple. You are from the Academy?”
Raimund paused in his tracks and then turned, moving subtly between the Sparrow and Soul Reavers before he offered another bow. “I am.”
“I thought I recognized you. Your Master is the Basilisk’s Keeper, Professor Nicodemus?”
“He is.”
The Soul Reaver arched a dark brow at the Disciple’s clipped responses and tapped a silver and blue shield-shaped broach on his jacket. “I am Isbert of the Spirit Realm.”
“You need no introduction, Keeper of the Blue Flame,” Raimund replied, his tone shifting between admiration and caution. “How may I assist you?”
Isbert’s stony expression relaxed momentarily before his gaze shifted to the youngest among the delegation, whose face remained unmarked. “My younger brother, Taran, will be among your Master’s newest students. You will look after him. See to it that he has everything he needs.”
Nothing in the Soul Reaver’s demeanor suggested this was a question or a request.
“I will do everything I can to ensure his stay in the Arcane Haven is pleasant,” Raimund answered diplomatically.
“It is not the prodigy’s comfort but his studies which concern me,” Isbert corrected in a cutting tone. “Taran has much to live up to ever since our Grandmaster chose him as his successor.”
Mercedes lifted the rim of her hood and studied her future classmate curiously. Taran's expression was unreadable as he returned Raimund’s courteous bow with one of equal respect before returning to his place in line with his back to the Disciple.
“I look forward to seeing the potential of one chosen by Grandmaster Cyril,” Raimund replied tactfully as he straightened. “Until then, I must resume the tasks my Master has given me.”
Isbert grunted dismissively in response, his electric blue eyes narrowing on the space behind the ginger Disciple.
Mercedes hastily ducked behind the Mystic as she pulled the hood down over her eyes. She backed away as Raimund turned and kept her footsteps light as they both moved with measured steps to the waiting safety of the teleportation chamber.
The delegation was well out of sight by the time they left the hallway. The Disciple, who had avoided looking in the albino’s direction until now, reached out to grab Mercedes's wrist as they took their positions on the magic circle that lit up as it transported them to their next destination.
image [https://www.royalroad.com/dist/img/ornaments/16.png]
“So, who are they? And why were you afraid of them?” Mercedes demanded as she followed the Mystic through the crowded city district. They had landed in the center of Arcanum Haven’s market district with no choice but to travel the remaining distance to the Enchanted Inn on foot. The Disciple’s illusory disguise had worn off the moment they arrived, though Raimund insisted on the Sparrow keeping the hood up.
The ginger Mystic raised his brows with another resigned sigh before turning to meet the albino’s expectant gaze. “You know there are thirteen realms, correct? Well, there are twelve disciplines of magic that belong to each realm.”
“Why twelve and not thirteen?”
“Because stagnant worlds much like your old one are classified as belonging to the Mundane Realm, which counts as one of the thirteen.”
“I see.” Mercedes nodded. “And those Soul Reavers come from the Spirit Realm.”
“Precisely.”
“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Why go out of your way to conceal me from them?”
The Disciple’s brows furrowed into a faint scowl. “I mentioned earlier that there are ongoing conflicts between the Primordials and their Temples. Some of that friction is more visible than others. The two sides of this disharmony are called the Abyssal Dominion Alliance and the Celestial Covenant Alliance.”
‘That sounds fairly similar to the long war in my old world,’ Mercedes mused as she moved to the Disciple’s other side to avoid the Mystic, who was heading towards them on a saddled giant boar.
“The Celestial Covenant encompasses the Spirit, Divine, and Celestial Realm,” Raimund continued, unphazed by the giant pig, which snorted in their direction as it thundered by. “The Abyssal Dominion contains the Infernal Lords of the Demon Realm, the Vampires and Vrặjitoare of the Blood Realm, the necromancers of the Underworld, and the Assassin Lords of the Shadow Realms.”
‘So they’re my natural enemy. Is that it?’
The Sparrow tilted her head quizzically. “But isn’t the Arcane Realm meant to be neutral?”
“We hold to that stance as much as possible. In the words of our Primordial, ‘Magic is only a tool. And a tool cannot be blamed for the wielder’s ignorance.”
“But had they seen me, I would have been in danger?” Mercedes pressed as she tilted the cloak’s hood back to better meet his gaze. “Why?”
“The Celestial Covenant does not differentiate between devils and vampires; they hold even less regard for the half-breeds they produce. The Soul Reavers from the Spirit Realm are specialized ghost hunters, a calling they once passionately pursued. Now they’ve grown even more notorious for their ability to target and assassinate necromancers and demonologists with nothing but their soul as a weapon. They are dangerous and a threat to any Mystic they perceive as an enemy to the Celestial Covenant.”
The Sparrow felt a chill run down her spine at the thought of being assassinated by a Mystic she could neither sense nor dodge. “What about the Accord you mentioned? Aren’t the realms supposed to be at peace to avoid war?”
“In certain realms, that holds true. The Celestial Covenant will tolerate the presence of the Abyssal Dominion races in most neutral territory—or at least they used to.”
“Used to?” The Sparrow stopped walking, forcing the Disciple to turn back and face her. “If they’re a threat to me,” Mercedes growled in a cynical tone. “How safe will I be when I’m sharing a classroom with one of them? A prodigy, no less!”
“Put your faith in Master Nicodemus, Initiate,” Raimund said reassuringly, placing a hand on the Sparrow’s shoulder. His restless gemstone green eyes shifted away from the albino’s scowling gaze before he added, “We should hurry. My partner has already arrived at the inn, and she doesn’t like waiting.”
image [https://www.royalroad.com/dist/img/ornaments/16.png]
“You’ve returned,” Lilibet greeted with a welcoming smile as the ginger Mystic and a panting, trembling albino staggered through the front door. “Disciple Sasha is waiting for you in the dining room. She ordered a meal for you both in advance.”
“Thank you,” Raimund murmured, reaching out to steady the gasping Sparrow beside him as the receptionist turned her attention to a pair of traveling merchant dwarfs checking into the inn. “Take a moment to catch your breath.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“How are you—so good at running—when you can just—poof—wherever you want to go?” Mercedes demanded between ragged breaths.
“Being a Mystic isn’t just about reading, spellcasting, and research,” Raimund explained as he guided her to a chair along the lobby wall. “There is a lot of physical, mental, and spiritual training involved.”
The Sparrow managed a non-committal grunt between coughs as she struggled to keep her head higher than her chest while her protesting lungs and pounding heart gradually eased their dissent.
“Alright, that’s enough. On your feet Initiate. You can rest while we eat.”
The Sparrow bit back a colorful protest as the ginger Mystic pulled her upright and nudged the slightly disoriented albino in the direction of the noisy dining hall. A blur of voices and faces passed by Mercedes as she trailed behind the Disciple, her burning throat and lungs demanding her attention while her wobbling legs threatened mutiny.
‘I thought it would be easier to breathe here because the air is so much clearer, but it feels denser somehow?’
“Here we are,” Raimund declared, pulling out a chair for the albino, which she happily collapsed into. “Initiate Mercedes, meet Disciple Sasha.”
The Sparrow followed the general direction of the ginger Mystic’s hand and stared blankly at the smoky silver and black striped cat sitting in an empty seat across from them that stared back at her with olive green eyes.
“It looks half-dead,” the cat commented, her ears flattening with disapproval as she examined the tired, sweating albino.
“We had to leg it from the nexus portal in the marketplace back to the inn,” Raimund replied as he sat between them. “What did you order.”
“Your favorite, Sorcerer’s Elk Shepherd’s Pie,” the cat—whom Mercedes could only assume was Sasha—replied as she flicked her tail in the ginger Disciple’s direction. “I went with stew for the Initiate.”
“An excellent choice,” Raimund said with a wry smile in the Sparrow’s direction. “This will be a new experience for you, Initiate. Food in the Mystic Realms not only tastes good, but the raw materials they incorporate provide many beneficial boons to a Mystic’s stats.”
“Stats?” Mercedes echoed hoarsely as she pressed her shoulder blades and spine against the back of her chair in an effort to keep from slouching.
The ginger Disciple chuckled and waved off her question as if amused. Meanwhile, the cat tilted its head at the albino as if analyzing an unexpected flaw. The Sparrow gritted her teeth as her skin prickled beneath the strangely invasive examination.
“Exactly how little does she know?” Sasha asked in a tone somewhere between bewildered and exasperation.
“She’s practically a Mundane,” Raimund answered with a shrug. “But unlike the ones I’ve met before, she doesn’t complain or scare easily.”
“We’ll see about that,” Sasha retorted, her whiskers twitching with disapproval. “Have you finished her registration?”
“Ahh!” The ginger Mystic tapped his fingers against the table as he turned to the Sparrow. “Let me get those vouchers from you.”
Mercedes nodded as she dug the various forms out of her pockets, shoving the crumpled analysis printout back inside before she presented the two vouchers to him.
[Quest Update! [Arcane Mystic Academy Registration] is Complete!]
Please see Disciple Raimund for your reward.
“There,” Raimund declared with a faint smirk. “My task is finished.”
“What’s with her bracelet?”
The Sparrow blinked in confusion as she turned to find the cat gone, replaced by a female Mystic with glossy black curls and sharp olive-green eyes, wearing a purple off-the-shoulder dress embroidered with forest green and silver threads.
“The Deputy Director won’t grant her a regular Nexus bracelet until they finish investigating the breach that took down the ATNS.”
Sasha chuckled before nodding to their approaching waiter. “I figured the Deputy Director would give you a hard time. That purple-haired minion of hers was banging at Master Nicodemus’s office door during his lunch break, complaining about how he stole away their prime suspect. As if an untrained, unregistered Initiate from a Mundane world would even be capable of disrupting their precious system.”
“I tried explaining that to them, not that they would listen. Still, we managed to escape mostly unscathed,” Raimund muttered with a hint of bitter irony. “Though we did encounter a delegation from the Spirit Realm as we left.”
The female Mystic’s olive-green eyes widened as they moved between the ginger Disciple and the Sparrow, ignoring the plate of food the waiter placed in front of her. “The Arcane Wonders never cease. How did you manage to avoid them?”
“A simple illusion did the trick,” Raimund replied as he leaned back to welcome a plate that held a steaming hearty slice of golden-crusted pie filled with what looked like gravy, various unrecognizable vegetables, and meaty chunks of dark purple venison. “Not bad for a meal served in the lower districts.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Sasha said as she cut into her elk steak, dipping a piece of the dark purple meat into a creamy white gravy that contained what looked like sliced blue mushrooms. “I wonder what that delegation was doing here? You’d think they would be busy barricading the Divine Realms with how much of a fuss Seraphelios’s Temples are making about their threatened barrier.”
The ginger Mystic coughed and loudly cleared his throat. “We should order some drinks to celebrate our final night of freedom.”
Sasha smirked and tilted a knowing glance in his direction. “The waitress did say they serve Arcane Enigma Martinis here.”
“Done,” Raimund declared and swiftly raised a hand to hail the next server.
Mercedes’s pink eyes wavered between the two relaxed Mystics before her and the steaming bowl of stew with floating chunks of purple elk meat and various strange vegetables.
“Eat up, Initiate,” Sasha said as she raised the albino’s untouched spoon with a wave of her finger and dropped it inside the bowl of soup. “You’ll need all the energy you can muster for tomorrow.”
The Sparrow took a breath and inched towards the offered meal, which was far more colorful than anything she’d eaten in her old world. It took a couple of breaths to safely cool the creamy liquid on her wooden spoon before she took a hesitant taste.
An overwhelming mouthful of robust flavors from the tender chunks of meat mixed with wild herbs and a hint of earthiness blended into the sweet and delicate notes of the sliced vegetables that crunched softly between the albino’s teeth as she chewed slowly, savoring the harmonized blend of flavors, and then swallowed.
[Notice! A Well-Balanced bite of [Arcane Elk Stew with Root Vegetables] has been consumed. Finish the meal to replenish all primary stats and receive the following bonus: +3 VIT, +3 STA, +3 M.ENG, +3 S.ENG for 3 hours.]
‘What the?’ Mercedes pressed a hand to her lips as she lowered her spoon.
“How is it?” Raimund asked after sending the waiter away with his request for drinks.
The Sparrow slowly arched a brow, at a complete loss for words, and then scooped up another bite of the savory soup.
“Better than anything you’ve ever tasted before, I’d wager,” Sasha observed with a pleased smile as she watched the albino dig in. “Healthy nourishment is as vital to a Mystic’s growth as any potion. The more you train, the less you’ll feel the need to eat and sleep, but they’re still necessary and helpful for recovery.”
Mercedes couldn’t argue with that. Every bite seemed to ease the pain and exhaustion in her chest while soothing her aching muscles. Eating at Eldermoor had been little more than a dreary act of necessity to keep from growing too weak. She’d never enjoyed the food or felt sustained by it. More often than not, she ended up throwing it up later, which was why the Sparrow never complained when Christine swiped whatever scraps they were given to eat.
‘This—almost feels as good as killing zombies,’ the Sparrow marveled as her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. ‘Which makes me wonder—’ Mercedes cautiously raised her gaze and observed the two Disciples before her, carrying on a conversation about the starting term while the waitress brought over their drinks, utterly unaware of the dark, hungry look in the albino’s pink eyes. ‘What does it feel like to kill in this world?’
“Here’s hoping the Academy doesn’t put another ban on drinking this term,” Raimund muttered after his first sip of the rainbow-colored martini.
“That will depend on this term’s batch of Initiates,” Sasha replied as she plucked the last blue mushroom from her plate with the point of her fork. “The Disciples know better than to mess with our limited privileges.”
“True enough.” The ginger Mystic grimaced. “Did you know we have the prodigy of the Spirit Realm to cater to this time?”
“Wait, that was this term?” Sasha’s olive-green eyes narrowed as she swapped the fork for her drink. “With her?”
“Yup,” Raimund replied, popping the p for emphasis. “And that’s before we get to the candidate from the Divine Realm.”
“Titan’s Mercy. What is Master Nicodemus thinking?”
“Perhaps he’s just looking for an excuse to send them both packing since they only enrolled to infiltrate the Citadel and observe how we heathens do things.”
“Ahh—” Sasha twirled the half-finished glass, her olive-green eyes analyzing the albino once more before she sighed. “I’m sure Master Nicodemus has a plan—but we should remind him of the delicate balance needed to maintain the Accord before lessons start tomorrow.”
“You do it then,” Raimund retorted before downing the last of his martini. “I’m going to need another.”
“You’ll be no good to me if you show up hungover tomorrow morning.”
“Why don’t you focus on finishing the task you’re here to perform.”
“Bah!” Sasha rolled her eyes and then turned to the silently observing Sparrow. “Master Nicodemus asked me to drop off the necessary reading material you’ll be needing.”
Mercedes’s contentment from finishing the meal and obtaining the promised stat rewards was short-lived as four rather slender cloth-covered books in various colors of violet, purple, and green landed in a neat pile beside her finished bowl.
‘Oh great. More reading…’
“These are your Mystic Primers. You’ll want to read them ahead of the introduction lessons. I recommend you start with this one tonight, so you’re at least prepared for class tomorrow,” Sasha said as she tapped the thicker of the two green books.
“I should give you your reward now,” Raimund said as he snapped his fingers, summoning a small box tied with a bow the size of Mercedes’s palm. “Don’t open it until you get to your room. The box has an automatic equip function, which you probably don’t want to experience in public. You can disable that later.”
The Sparrow’s eyes widened as she picked up the tiny fushia pink box and added it to the stack of books.
“I’ve also included a teleportation scroll in there that will take you to the Academy grounds if you rip it,” he added with a wink. “Can’t have you showing up late on your first day.”
“Is there a quest for completing all the reading?” Mercedes attempted to keep her tone casual as she phrased this question to the female Mystic.
“What?” Sasha snorted as she pushed back her chair. “You’re expecting a reward for completing such simple homework?”
“Sasha,” Raimund admonished in a low voice, frowning as she rose. “Leaving already?”
“Unlike someone who got to spend their afternoon frolicking around the lower district, I still have preparations back at the Academy to finish,” Sasha muttered as she lifted her glass with a weary sigh. “The end of term can’t come soon enough.” She downed the rest of her drink in a single shot before placing the empty cup beside her comrades. “I’ll be leaving then!”
The ginger Disciple shook his head as he watched her leave, then turned to offer the somber Sparrow a shrug. “She doesn’t like to wait.”
Mercedes forced a smile as she pushed back her chair. “I think I’ll head up to my room.”
“Wait,” Raimund called out quickly, placing a hand over the Sparrow’s wrist. “Those books might be considered simple reading for someone born a Mystic, but even then, we give our candidates six months to read and study in advance. So, if a quest will help motivate you through this—then as your assistant teacher, it is my job to offer encouragement when needed.”
It took every fiber of control Mercedes could muster to restrain from smiling in relief as a familiar quest screen popped up between them.
[Quest Received: Dreaded Homework Assignment]
“Reading is as necessary as breathing for a Mystic who wishes to grow and unmask the mysteries of the Arcane.”
In preparation for your journey into the mystical arts, the following reading is required:
* Mystical Essence Unraveled: A Beginner’s Guide to Magic Theory.
* Awakening the Arcane: A Primer on Harnessing Magical Essence and Energy.
* Pathways to Power I: Understanding Basic Primary Stats.
* Pathways to Power II: Understanding Complex Secondary Stats.
Deadline: None.
Reward: Isn’t knowledge its own reward?
Suggestion: Disciple Sasha recommends that you read [Pathways to Power I] first in preparation for tomorrow’s class.
[Notice! [Quest Insight] is available to assist with this quest!]
‘I owe you one, Raimund,’ Mercedes mused happily as she accepted the offered quest. ‘I suppose, if nothing else, I could always try to spare your life at least once in the future.’