Wanderer

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Tommy woke up, feeling around the bedside table for his glasses. 'No table. No. Where am I?'

His head was ready to burst. A hundred bulls raged in his head, and his body felt trampled. Everything hurt. He felt exhausted. And hungry. Famished. Starving. It was a wonder he had been asleep at all. Worse, he found himself in a strange all-too-large room.

Last evening slowly came back to him. What a nightmare it had been. The whole day. It felt like a nightmare ever since he said goodbye to Grandfather and Fruit. The purrs and snores were dearly missed.

He had come to his new room, somehow.

'What a scandal it would be if I woke up in a girl's bed.'

He chuckled. That same thought horrified him a few days ago. Now, it was a funny respite, a nostalgic respite that held him together. What a harrowing day of awkward social interactions and that one terrible person.

'Why me? What a psycho...'

He was shaking, his fists balled, and his eyes agitated. He still wasn't ready to go over it yet.

He sat up, leaning his elbow on the pillows, his other arm curled around his tucked knees. Unlike his anger and confusion, the numbness in his limbs slowly faded away.

'Seems like I won't be falling asleep.'

So he got up, gingerly feeling the wall, first opening the curtains to light up the pitch black room. Alas, outside was the same. Dark. An inauspicious Lost Moon. His window overlooked a garden, star light shining upon the path leading out. It reminded him of how the boatman sails the Styx, ferrying lost souls on that final journey.

He pondered if he maybe, hopefully, had died. 'Surely that would get that bitch fired.'

Still brooding, he headed to the living room. As he stepped out, his foot kicked a stiff bag of paper. The bag toppled promptly, a couple crow-apples rolled out. There was some cheese, a tiny jar of marmalade, and a cold stiff loaf of bread.

'Food? Atleast Aldy seems nice.'

He had missed dinner, and it hadn't been overlooked. The guy was a mystery to him. They were teammates, and roommates. Yet, that was it, he was the heir to a powerful military dynasty, a full-fledged knight going by the comments. That somehow made the gesture mean more.

'Or is it also an illusion?'

He crashed onto the living room couch, chewing in a dark brooding silence. Best he could tell, the morning was quite far. He just didn't feel like waiting for it, so he took out a coat from his packs and headed out. Mild autumn wind chilled him as he headed down the sole path leading out.

Tommy may not have been a mage, so he didn't get the arcane mysteries. However, he was well versed in the mundane world and it's functioning. Every large organization needs an army of common folk doing the needful - accountants, chefs, seamstresses, smiths, glassblowers, maids and butlers, coachmen, merchants... That army itself needs yet another army - bankers and lenders, chaperones, milkmaids, school teachers, shepherds, hunters, guards, adventurers, guilds...

The Academy was such an institution. Anything that could be bought, came from the capital. It was 30 miles through a mountainous pass making journey rough for common folk, despite the well maintained roads. Hence a small permanent town had popped up around the Academy. The guidebook had clear instructions about it. Tommy searched for the name but couldn't find it anywhere. It was just The Town.

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Mages stayed in the towers. The land belonged to the crown in name, and to the Rived Academy itself for all practical purposes. The Town was close to the Radial Tower, the seat of administrative power and logistics at the Academy. A sparsely populated town for traders, adventurers, and visitors.

Tommy walked that way too. There must be a clock tower there. And guards. He couldn't possibly be the only one awake. He needed to be somewhere normal. Away from this place, if only for a night. He could imagine Delphin's remorse looming over him, even if he couldn't see it.

He kept walking, wandering. Tree frogs were singing, errant fireflies buzzed together rhythmically, an unexpected harmony of nature. Tommy felt himself relax. A soothing walk always did work for him. No matter the kind of problem he faced, business or personal, he always took to walking when nothing else worked. The food seemed to have worked too. His exhaustion gave way to slight contentment, the headache now faded and dull.

He tried not to dwell on that last instance. Instead, he distracted himself by thinking about that sticky glove thing, quite likely his manifested mana.

'I'll ask Morgan.'

That feeling returned to him, a chilly sensation resting at the tip of his tailbone, waiting to be called.

He willed it and it bubbled out into his palm. He did try to make a ball again, but the mana wouldn't leave his skin. It moved around as he wanted, slithering and climbing, rolling around, giving him goosebumps. It wasn't affected by clothing at all. He kneaded the gooey gel between his fingers. He realized he could pull it back into himself too. His skin effortlessly held that sensation, not losing much. He stretched it thin, trying to cover his whole skin.

He had been walking for an hour by now. As he reached the wall and walked along the shallow moat, he saw a banded wooden gate. Two guards appeared on the parapet, lit by a single lantern among them, clearly not there earlier. They were already making warding gestures before he spoke.

"Halt. Who goes there?"

"Dear sir. I come from the dormitories. Can you let me in."

He saw them whisper to each other. They were too far to hear, or even see their expressions.

"You may come back at the first light."

'It's a no, then.'

The guards didn't ask for any identification or reason. Nothing indicating they would open the door.

"Dear guard, sir, the Lost Moon shall be found anytime now. Will that be enough light?"

More gestures - right handed pats to the shoulders, a backhanded nose touch, a helmet check.

"All the more reason we await the daylight. Be gone from here until then. May the capricious one's gaze pass you by."

"And Sol show you true colors." Tommy replied. There didn't seem much point in arguing.

'Tch, even Academy guards are superstitious. What now?'