”Magic is not a question of what can be done with the Aether, it is a question of what you have the Will to make it do.’
— Excerpt from ‘On the Making of Magic’, written by the First Council of Hollow
The first thing Quinn felt as he opened his eyes was what he imagined an icepick to the skull felt like. Blinking away the welling of tears, he could see that he was in the same hospital room from earlier.
The sun that had previously been shining in through the window had set and he was greeted to a view of the city at night. Street lights at intervals illuminated the distant streets. On the main artery leading to the University, people could be seen roaming the street in clumps, likely on their way to their favorite spot for a drink.
Crowded into the small room were several people- two of which seemed to be having a silent shouting match. Quinn recognized Professor Agelia as the one currently shouting, and the unfortunate soul being shouted at as the dwarf who had chaired his admission test. Standing between the two of them, and looking as though they would rather be anywhere else, was a wrinkled halfling with wispy white hair that clung onto his scalp the way dead leaves cling to the branches of a tree.
The halfling noticed Quinn as he sat up and with a look of relief used the opportunity to redirect the attention of the Professor and the dwarf.
Quinn felt a strange shifting in his vicinity as sound returned to the room and noticed the absence of a shimmer he hadn’t paid much mind to which had been surrounding the trio
“Wonderful!” said Professor Agelia, “I am glad to see you are awake.”
“Ay, as am I” grumbled the dwarf who got a heated glance from Agelia in response.
“You are currently suffering from will strain— you pulled much more Aether than you should have been allowed to by the admissions board and it is having a bit of an effect on you. Not to worry, with proper rest you should be feeling better in a day or so. It is only a minor case afterall.” Said the Professor as she continued to shoot glares at the dwarf.
Quinn decided that if this was what a minor case felt like, he did not want to know what a more severe case of will strain could be.
“That sounds… bad?” Quinn ventured
“It can be.” Agelia said, “Luckily Professor Bjorndin and Elias were there to wrestle the Aether flow away from you.”
The dwarf, presumably Professor Bjorndin, smirked at that.
“She speaks true she does, Aether can be a tricky beast, that’s why the practical examination is overseen by competent mages.” said Bjorndin, his emphasis making it clear to Quinn what they had been shouting about before he awoke.
“Anyway, it is my pleasure to let you know that by a near unanimous decision, taking into account your special circumstances and your…” he cracked a grin “Dazzlin’ performance in the practical examination, you are granted admission to the Hollow University.”
Quinn felt questions surface in his mind but before he could ask any Professor Bjorndin quickly finished by saying, “Now if you’ll excuse me, that’s been ‘nough excitement for me today. This old curmudgeon,” he gestured to the halfling next to him, “Will get yer schedule sorted and let ya know about tuition.”
Content that he had said what he needed to, he then quickly left the room, eager to be elsewhere.
“And I have other patients to check on, so if you will excuse me.” Agelia said before departing. Quinn noted she turned to walk down the hall in the opposite direction of Bjorndin.
A stupified Quinn stared at the doorway that they had just abruptly departed through before focusing on the only person left standing in the room.
The halfling sighed, adjusted his glasses once more, and then began to speak in a thin, nasally voice, “I apologize for that. Agelia and Bjorndin are always at eachothers throats. She seems to believe that it is Bjorndin’s fault that his students are frequent visitors to the infirmary. Personally I think it is just because the artificers are all slightly crazy and have a distinct lack of any self preservation, but what do I know.”
The halfling blushed, perhaps slightly embarrassed at what he had just said outloud before resuming, “Anyyyywho… I am Wilson Wright, Registrar of this… esteemed… institution, and I am the one who gets hammer out the details of your admission. I will start with tuition, as that is easy to get out of the way. Let’s see here…” he reached into a bag at his waist about the size of his fist and pulled out a thick book with a wrinkled leather cover that was at least half his tall as him before beginning to flip through the pages.
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Quinn felt a sense of dread worm its way into his stomach at the mention of tuition. He didn’t have any money, what was he going to do?
“Ahah! Here it is.” Wilson said as he pulled out the page he was looking for.
“Don’t get to use this clause often but here goes, ‘Addendum 53 to the charter of Hollow University proposed by order of Chancellor Aegian on the 11th of Sylph in the year 1132. Approved by the University Board on the 11th of Sylph in the year 1132. Any Outworlder who is granted admission to the University shall have their tuition paid in full at no charge to them, and paid a stipend per semester of 50 gold to help fund their educational expenses from the Aegian Grant.’ Congrats, here is your stipend.” The halfling reached into his waist bag and pulled out a coin purse, which if you looked at closely you could make out a ‘50’ stitched into the side of, that he tossed onto Quinn’s lap. “Now for scheduling.”
Wilson reached into his waist bag and this time produced a large piece of paper that he began to read over, adjusting his glasses yet again as he did so.
“Alright, so first years at the University are required to take General History, Magical Ecology, Basic Runes and Glyphs, Introductory Alchemy, Aether Control, and Circuit Mathematics. Says here that due to exemplary performance on the written examination in the field of mathematics that you are exempt from Circuit Mathematics. Adjunct Professor Elias Whitewood has offered to give you extra tutelage in place of your Circuit Mathematics class, a rare privilege that I would recommend taking.” The halfling looked up at Quinn who nodded in confirmation. “Excellent.”
He then took out another sheet of paper along with a pen and walked over to the table next to Quinn’s bed. He compared the paper with the previous document he still held in his hand before setting it on the table, crossing one section out and scribbling in something next to it before passing the paper to Quinn.
“This will be your schedule for your first year at Hollow University.”
Quinn took the paper and looked down at it, seeing each of the classes Wilson had described listed as well as times and locations.
The old halfling then reached back into his bag, pulling out a different paper that he then passed along to Quinn.
It was a list of unfamiliar dates with different events listed alongside them.
“This is the academic calendar, as you can see this next academic year will begin on the 15th of Relth, 6 days from now. On this list you will find the dates of examinations, as well as the break for winter festivities.”
Quinn was about to ask about the strange months listed on the sheet, but Wilson continued without a care. “Lastly, I have for you where you will be staying. I have taken the liberty of assigning you to Linton Tower. It isn’t the most lavish of housing but it is close to the library and has easy access to the classes you will be attending.”
He paused for a moment before adding with a hint of disdain, “It will also keep you from rubbing elbows with any noble born students, which might just be a good thing until you get some schooling in the history and politics of the world, snakes the lot of them.”
Wilson then placed his large leather bound book back into his bag along with the pen he had used for modifying Quinn’s schedule, before looking to Quinn. “Any questions before I head out?”
“Where can I find Linton Tower?” Quinn replied.
Wilson sighed, reached back into his bag for his pen, took Quinn’s schedule, quickly jotted a series of directions on the back of it, and handed it back to him.
“Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of at the moment, no.”
Relief flooded Wilson’s face as he said, “In that case, I will be off to bed. Good night, and good luck.” He proceeded to stride through the door. His foot steps echoed out a clipped retreat down the hall, fading into the distance.
Quinn watched him leave, head still throbbing, although not as much as when he had first woken up. He took a moment to regret not asking about the bag the Registrar had but figured he could ask someone about it later if he remembered. Looking around the room he saw the sandals he had been given earlier on the floor by his bed.
Standing up he grabbed them, gathered the various papers he had been given along with the coin pouch, and with the directions as his guide set off down the hall.
—
It was eerie walking through the empty halls of the University. Such a large place felt as though it should be full of people, not devoid of them.
It didn’t take Quinn very long to navigate the twisting corridors and arrive at a door, behind which sat a staircase spiraling upwards.
‘This must be it’ Quinn thought to himself as he started to climb.
Upwards he went until the staircase opened into a large, open common area. Against one wall was an inviting fireplace with a leather couch in front and arm chairs to either side. Opposite the wall in which the fireplace resided was a massive window giving a view across the expanse of the University as well as a panoramic look at the city behind it in the distance. Sandwiched between them on the other side of the room was a small kitchenette complete with a series of cabinets for storage. Scattered throughout the room were more places to sit, a bookshelf that appeared well stocked, as well as a large table upon which rested what appeared to be a half-finished game of some sort.
Not seeing anywhere else to go but further up, Quinn continued up the staircase to a small circular landing. Surrounding the landing on all sides were a series of doors numbered one through five.
He looked back down at the directions but they said nothing about which room was his. Quinn briefly thought about just trying the doors to see if one was unlocked before instead heading back down the stairs. The couch by the fireplace had seemed inviting enough and he thought spending the night there might be a safer bet than embarrassing himself on his first night in a strange place.
Reaching the common room once again he made himself comfortable on the couch by the fireplace and closed his eyes. Before long, he began to drift off again– this time of his own free will.
—
It was morning once more in the city of Hollow and the residents of Linton Tower were gathered in their common room discussing, in hushed tones, the issue of the disheveled stranger passed out on their couch.
“I don’t see why you lot had to wake me up for this.” said the first of the group. “He probably just got drunk celebrating passing admissions and ended up in the wrong place. If he wants to sleep it off on our couch, he can be my guest. I’m going back to bed.”
Andrew Helvia had hair the color of fallen leaves, a lanky build, and a dead-look behind his eyes shared by all that were forced to deal with those lacking in common sense. He was a fourth year student at Hollow University and therefore de-facto font of wisdom for the younger folk living in Linton Tower this year.
He already regretted his decision to take the job of resident advisor.
“Well sorry– I didn’t exactly think it was normal for strangers to invade our common space!” shouted the second member of the impromptu gathering, hushed tone forgotten. “I wouldn’t have cheaped out and chosen Linton Tower if this is the sort of thing that is to be expected here!”
Max Martinus, son of a well-off merchant, couldn’t have looked more like his typical countryman if he tried. He had curly, dirty-straw-blonde hair, prominent cheek bones, and a sharply hooked nose. The one thing that managed to set him apart from anyone else you might see crowded into the Great Colleseum of Tarth was his constant smug expression– the sort that was just begging to be punched.
“If you care that much, take it up with the Registrar to see if you can move, as I said though–” Andrew stopped mid sentence as the sleeping figure awoke with a start.
His shoulders drooped as he realized his chance to return to bed had slipped through his grasp.