The room faded into view around him, as if he was waking from a long and hazy sleep. He rubbed at his eyes to clear the blur, and pulled his hand away wet with tears. He hadn't realised his body had started crying. With a quick glance around the still silent room he realised he wasn't the only one either. A few other students speckled about, were busy wiping their own sorrows from their cold cheeks. The sombre atmosphere felt thick enough to soak into his bones. All of the students sat stunned, trying to wrap their minds around the alien experience they had just about shared.

For Murphy’s part, his thoughts bounced between the apparent death of his old friend, and the apparent age of the others. He knew that Coil and Annabell would lead a hard life. Malnir was a prosperous town, with a dense population, but it was still common for everyone to work. Even with his privilege, Coil would be expected to do his part for the town. In a populous packed with potent resources, and clever tools made by mages, it was a poor choice for the leadership to get lazy. The old Kir would often talk to the boys about leadership, making sure to stress the point that a leader needs to work twice as hard.

"If it's in the best interest of your people, then it's in your best interest too," the voice of the old Kir echoed in his memories. The man was terrified of a revolt, even though he never had a reason to be. He put more work into Malnir than any Kir that had come before him, and the people respected him for it.

Even if Coil inherited his father's work ethic, it still wouldn't explain the years in his eyes, or the lines on Annabell's face, and it certainly wouldn't explain their grown child. His heart both warmed and ached at the thought of that young man. They'd named the boy after him, unless another Murphy ended up in Malnir.

His melancholic introspection was interrupted when a screaming whimper cut through the room's thick silence. Everyone turned at once to see a woman shaking the pale body of the man sitting next to her. She was crying and screaming his name, but he was entirely lifeless. Murphy didn't know them. Only now was he learning that the man's name was Nicholas, that much was obvious.

The professor swiftly made his way to the back of the room to assess the situation. Murphy could see from his vantage that the man's leeching stone was resting on the table beside his open hand. The consequence of him letting go being that his mind had no way home. Wherever he was, he would remain his ghostly self, less something is to dispel him. He was a mind without a soul, and his body would quickly perish without a mind to help it breathe. The rune system they used for Astral Projection took care of such things, providing you remain connected to the system. Depending on how long ago he had let go of the stone, his body may have already died.

A few students took that as their que to leave, though Murphy and others stayed to see what would happen. It was morbid, but their curiosity was strong. It was after all a risk to their new craft, so of course they'd be inclined to want to understand the risks involved. Most of the students that stayed shamelessly crowded around the professor while he attempted to resolve the situation with some of his own spells. Murphy stayed in his seat and watched on, until something interesting caught his eye.

While another of Drish's spells lit up and failed to work, he noticed one of the students slip quietly away from the small crowd. They made their way over to one of the three tall windows at the side of the room, and peered through it, towards the sky. In brief intervals, he noticed them glance towards the crowd, before quickly snapping their view back towards the sky. Murphy was curious to say the least, especially because he couldn't see their face. They were wearing a dark grey leather cloak, lined with an emerald green fur trim. It looked expensive, and well worn. The hood was up and their back was turned, deepening the mystery further. He was sure he hadn't seen that cloak when he walked in, he would remember such a fantastic thing. He was always on the lookout for a new cloak, he considered himself somewhat of an expert in judging their quality. Uundah liked to remind him that he has only ever owned a few cloaks, but he didn’t see how that affected his skills in judgement.

Not one to let a mystery remain undisturbed, he packed his things away and quietly joined the stranger at the window.

He looked up to see nothing but clear sky. Curious, he looked over to the professor, then back to the sky. Nothing was happening.

"Nice day for it," he said eventually, startling the stranger to a flinch. They still didn't turn around though. Murphy smiled, rising to the challenge that wasn't actually set.

"Last time I watched someone die, the weather was much more dreary."

The stranger took in a very noticeable deep breath, bunching their shoulders up in frustration.

"Do you mind?" She questioned.

Her voice was deep and husky, catching him off guard. He was expecting them to be a woman, his teenage years had made him quite astute in spotting the differences through thick clothing.

"Not particularly," he replied with nonchalance. "You get used to people dying in front of you eventually."

She turned to face him, having to look up to meet his eyes.

She was younger than he'd quickly assumed by the sound of her voice. She was older than him by a few years at least, but her demeanour suggested the confidence of experience. She was fair in her features, and had blonde curls that framed her face below her gentle chin. Deep orange eyes stared at him with indignation, but he was struck as still as a schoolboy by the sudden beauty before him.

"Can I help you with something?" She growled. "Can't you see I'm busy."

She whirled back around, and continued staring at the sky.

Gathering his jaw from his collar, he stood up taller and put on his confident voice.

"I can see that," he said, leaning with one hand on the glass beside them. Now he was curious about a few things.

"What's so interesting up there though?"

She turned again, this time looking as angry as she sounded. "What will it take for me to get you to piss off?" She hissed.

"You could tell me what you're looking for," he offered through his most charming smile.

She rolled her eyes. "We both know what I'm waiting for," she said, glancing at the small crowd again. "Just watch for it yourself and leave me alone." She turned again, and continued her impatient waiting.

Murphy had no idea what she was waiting for. The woman was acting strangely, and he knew that always led to something interesting, so he pressed on.

"Let's say I'm new to the whole, standing by a window to watch a man die. Do you have any pointers?"

"You could start by shutting up," she growled over her shoulder.

"In that case, we might have a problem," he chuckled. "I'm not sure shutting up is a part of my bag of tricks."

She turned again, and threw her hood down to see him better. "I'd be happy to help you learn," she spat, subtly pointing her dagger at him from her waist.

No stranger to a threat, Murphy continued smiling. He glanced at her blade, then back to the professor. "Any lesson you have to teach me with that is probably best left for off campus," he said, nodding at the bluish blade. "I don't think the old men take too kindly to their students bleeding all over the polished floors."

She fixed him with a curious look, not sure what to make of his response.

"Are you," she started to ask something, but was cut off by a shout from the professor.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"Get back!" He barked at the small crowd. Given that the students were all too aware of the dangers of magic, none of them wasted any time diving or scurrying away from the perishing Nicholas. Murphy’s attention was torn between the unfolding commotion, and the woman in the cloak rushing gracelessly back to her post by the window. As she pressed her face against the glass, a bright white light erupted from their classmate's body. There was a small shock wave, strong enough to push the chairs closest to the epicentre skittering along the floor. Murphy glanced out the window just in time to see a ball of light shooting into the sky. It stopped when it was far above the land, then darted east, leaving his sight almost immediately.

The woman hurriedly scribbled something down in a notebook, then shoved it away under her cloak. He took in what she'd drawn as best as he could from over her shoulder, but he didn’t know what to make of the page. From his brief spy, he saw what looked like a map with a bunch of lines. The mystery deepened, and he felt the spirit of Muunfir the mischievous stir in his gut. This lady was up to something, and he wanted to be a part of it.

She turned, then slowly looked him up and down. Her eyes stopped on his, and he felt as if he had the opportunity to say something clever. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a sniff. Without another word, she casually walked past him, joining the students that were now making their way out of the room.

He stood in confused silence, trying to decide what was best to focus on. Lately, it seemed like everything was happening around him when Uundah was somewhere else. He could have used the second perspective in that moment. Uundah was the eyes and ears, and Murphy was the wit. That's how he saw it at least.

Two students stayed to help Drish deal with the unfortunate situation, so Murphy joined them. If he wasn't going to get any answers from the mysterious woman in the nice cloak, he might be able to find out what the hell just happened from a peer. Teddy was one of the two that stayed, so Murphy helped him collect the chairs. They were standing next to the now smoking corpse of Nicholas as if it was just another day. There was a time in his life that such things would have affected him greatly, but the reality of the world around them had set in faster at the university. It was something he'd been warned about when he first showed up with his masters letter. The practice of magic wasn't for everyone, and the administration wasn't shy about what happens to those that can't get it right.

Nicholas looked expensive. His clothes were that of a noble born, the rings that adorned his fingers were encrusted and probably enchanted at the cost of a family home. There would be people to miss him, and a family eager to blame the university, but it was all pointless. A wealthy student might attend the university for nothing more than the esteem the name of the institution would lend them. It was rare to see a noble in a practical class, so Murphy reasoned the deceased may have actually had an interest in learning. That made him sad. It was disappointing to see a fellow curious mind fall victim to their own inquiries. He tried not to think about the outrageous number of warnings he'd received himself.

"Sad thing," Murphy offered, taking a chair from Teddy to tuck it in.

"He should have had a charm," Teddy said, shaking his head. "You should too. You Warlocks are too arrogant about your magic."

"I don't see why we need to bring race into this," Murphy replied awkwardly.

"You’re not a race Murphy," Teddy said, smiling a little. "The Demai are another race, you're just a little mutated."

Murphy raised his eyebrows. "That wasn't any better," he said with a hint of shock.

"It wasn't supposed to be," Teddy chuckled. "I'm serious though. Just because you can use your power, it doesn't mean you're invulnerable."

He held up his wrist to show his charm. It wasn’t elegant like those of some of their peers, but it was far more functional than any others he'd seen. The device was chunky, and took up at least half of his forearm. He'd built it himself, and been sure to include as many trinkets as he could fit in it. The thing had at least five open places for holding stones, and another five already filled with glowing crystal. He could power several spells at once thanks to his design. Most other human students were limited to one or two, even though it was easy enough to wear a bigger charm. Most human students weren't Teddy though. His ambition was greater than his grasp, and his grasp was greater than any practitioner his age.

"It's dumb magic to ignore your tools. Nicholas was a good mage, and now he's gone because of dumb magic," he insisted.

Murphy nodded. He knew Teddy was right of course, but it was easy to let his ease with magic set him complacent. "You’re right again, of course. Maybe I'll get you to make me one."

Teddy smirked at him. "Alright, but my prices are double at the moment. You know, tournament time and all that."

Murphy squinted at him, trying to gauge how serious he was. When Teddy's smile didn't falter, Murphy sighed. "Alright, I deserve that," he eventually said. He looked over to the professor cleaning up Nicholas in an obvious gesture. "Still, have to wonder why he went and exploded like that," he said quietly, trying to probe for anything Teddy knew.

"Not really a surprise," Teddy replied with a shrug. "He was a Warlock with money. That's why I stood away when it started."

Murphy stared at him blankly, trying to soak the statement in. "Rich Warlocks blow up when they die?" He asked, a little fear in his voice.

"They do when they have a temple," Teddy replied, casually tucking another chair in.

"So I'm safe as long as I'm not religious?" Murphy questioned, the sound of relief trickling in.

Teddy paused, and looked curiously at Murphy. He blinked at him, and opened his mouth as if to speak. Something stopped him, and he looked as if he grappled with a thought.

"Murphy," he eventually said, slowly. "You do know what a temple is, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Murphy laughed. "I walk by one for the Silver Swordsman every time I come to the university."

"No," Teddy said flatly. "Not that kind of temple. I mean a mind palace, a soul home. The Demai call it a 'Tehmahk'."

Murphy knew that last word. It's something his grandfather used to talk about, but he never paid enough attention to understand it entirely. From what he understood, it was a meditation technique the long lived race used to organise their memories, lest they forget what they experienced over the aeons.

"You’re telling me that he blew up because he has a good memory?" He asked eventually.

Teddy shook his head again. "It's hard to understand how little you know."

Murphy laughed. "You know, people keep telling me that."

"A Temple is more than a good memory," Teddy said, tapping his forehead. "It's a physical thing, rather, a metaphysical thing."

Murphy nodded along, as if he understood what his classmate was saying.

"It's a way to harness the energy of your soul. People use it to store their memories like you said, but it can also be used for many other things. Some people can manifest parts of their temple into the physical world, it's honestly fantastic."

Teddy began to rant, his eyes wide with excitement.

"But why did he explode?" Murphy asked quickly, trying to get in before his friend got too distracted from the topic at hand.

"Because he's a Warlock," Teddy said, as if it was obvious. "When a Warlock with a temple dies, their temple will manifest in the world. How do you not know any of this?"

"Don't shame me," Murphy said defensively. "I had a different upbringing."

"Clearly," Teddy replied, rolling his eyes. "You Warlocks take in magic faster and in more abundance than any other creature in society. After enough time, your soul holds onto some of that power. When you die, that energy has to go somewhere."

Murphy thought it over. It made sense in some ways, but it encouraged a lot of other questions. He felt like there was more to the picture.

"That explains the explosion at least. Do you think you could tell me more about this?"

Teddy shrugged. "A little, I suppose. I can only tell you so much though, it's not like I have a temple. Won't be needing one of those with my short years."

He said the last part somewhat mournfully.

Murphy put his hand on Teddy's shoulder, and looked into his eyes. "There's ways to solve that problem," he said with a friendly smile. "You can add to your years pretty easily, to be true."

"Easy for the rich, maybe," Teddy chuckled. "Maybe I'll charge you triple for that charm," he said smiling.

"Or," Murphy said, dragging it out. "You could come see what I want your help with, and I can see how healthy of a payment I can find," he offered.

Teddy studied the Warlock for a moment. "Sounds tempting. How about you show me what you're up to, and we can talk about it."

"That's all I ask," Murphy said, putting his arm around Teddy's shoulder. "And you can tell me all about the Tehmahk on the way. It's feeling a little morbid in here anyway."

"Right now?" Teddy asked with a hint of panic as Murphy began to steer him towards the door.

"No time to waste," Murphy said with a wicked smile. "You don't have many years left."

He stayed cheerful while he ushered his friend through the door and into the hall. On the inside however, his mind was turbulent. He had just taken on several days worth of information in the span of two hours. He wanted to wait for Uundah to try and unpack the list of considerations he'd discovered. Noticeably, between panicked thoughts of Malnir and his own nature, he couldn't shake the thought of the mysterious woman in the nice grey cloak.