Early exploration of the Arcane Realm by the Illusian races was fraught, and hundreds of mages lost their lives. Over time, methods were developed, such as entering the Arcane Realm in the proximity of a Primordial. The early rate of Font discovery was rapid.
-Tallen Elmheart, Secondary Fonts
—
Everyone but Amara was waiting for Kole as he arrived at the meeting place.
“Sorry!” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long. Will drain wiped me out.”
“It’s fine,” Rakin answered. “No one expected you to be on time. Let’s get this outing done with.
“Amara’s not coming?” Kole asked.
“No, she wanted to examine your wand longer. She sent a messenger.” Doug said, pointing to a rat perched in his antlers.
The group headed over to the Griffin’s Rest, garnering even more attention now that a demonkin was in their midst.
“We just need to find a dark elf and a duergar to complete the look,” Kole joked. “We can call ourselves ‘The Forsaken.’”
Doug laughed, but Zale and Rakin shared a worried look.
“The voidlings weren’t one of the forsaken races,” Zale defended when she saw Kole had caught the look. “You bring up a good point. We will need a name for class. Maybe we go with Dragon Cultists? Sorcerers, demonkin, and voidlings all fought alongside the dragons in the Last Dragon War.”
“Pass,” Rakin shouted. “I like ‘The Forsaken.’ It’s short and to the point.”
“For real?” Kole asked. “I was only joking…”
“No, it’s clever. Let’s do it.” Zale said, now free of any hesitation.
“The Forsaken it is then,” Kole declared.
The hardball match had already started when the groups arrived. The place was crowded, but their table from before had a sign marking it as reserved.
“Perks of having a delinquent as a mother,” Zale said, grabbing a seat.
“I’m going to tell her you said that,” Rakin said.
“That’s fine, but I’ve got a thing or two to tell Dagmar next time I see her.”
Rakin’s face turned pale and his eyes grew wide.
“You wouldn’t!”
Zale only shrugged and waved to the bartender.
The group watched the match without event. Gray’s team was present, and everyone made an effort to avert their gazes from their corner of the room—everyone but Doug.
“Why is everyone at that table staring at us?” Doug whispered, pointing to the rival team.
“It's a long story,” Zale equivocated.
“No it's not,” Rakin said. “Zale had a crush on the big one, but he's a wee bit racist. The big one still kind of likes Zale, despite the racism, and the pretty one is pissed because she likes the big one. The skinny one hates Kole because Kole is a phony wizard who can’t use magic and he expects Kole will get us all killed someday.”
“That was kind of long,” Doug answered. “Are you sure about the pretty one? She seems the only one to be in a good mood.”
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Kole risked a glance over and saw Mouse smiling, taking sips of her drink and then looking at the cup as if she didn’t believe it to be real.
Rakin snorted, “I think you tall races all look like deformed mutant children, and even I can tell Esme’s the pretty one. The happy one is Mouse.”
“If you say so,” Doug said wistfully as he watched Mouse drink.
“Oh great. Another avenue for drama,” Kole whispered to Zale.
“Can I offer you kids another round?” Gimble, the proprietor, asked after the match ended.
Everyone declined and thanked him for the evening.
“Alright, have a good night. Don’t forget about the mixer Sunday.”
“Mixer?” Kole asked, but Gimble was already at the next table.
“It’s an opportunity for adventurer graduates of the Dahn to meet prospective mentees,” Zale answered. “You don’t need to be faculty on the staff to mentor a student, but if you aren’t you don’t have much opportunity to evaluate potential students. You should go. I can introduce you around.”
“That would be great!” Kole said, more excited for a mixer than he thought possible. “I was kind of hoping your uncle would be interested in me, but…”
“Yeah, I was kind of hoping for that too,” Zale admitted. “But, he’s always been flakey. This might be better for you in the long run. Some of the hardball teams will be there too.”
The group left together and parted ways on campus and Kole took a roundabout way to the library. Walking by the librarian’s desk, he was struck by a pang of guilt.
I really should ask about returning that rune light… but I need it. Best if I ask Amara for a new one first.
Kole walked through the stacks, on a circuitous route before closing in on the entrance to his new room. Since being granted permission to stay in the room, Kole had widened the opening he’d made in the bookshelf and then dragged his previously borrowed desk in front of the hole to hide it. When he came in sight of the desk, he found a rat waiting patiently atop it.
“Scram!” Kole shouted at it.
The rat only sat there on its two hind legs, little ratty paws held up as if begging for coins.
Kole threw the cork from an empty potion vial at it. The rat vanished the moment before the cork stuck, only to reappear in the same spot and resume its pose.
“Do you need something?” Kole asked. “Why am I talking to a rat… actually, most of my friends talk to rats now. Now I’m talking to myself.”
The rat cocked its head sideways as if listening.
“He’s hungry!” Theral’s voice came muffled from the opening.
“Oh,” Kole said to himself.
Did he want to feed the rat? It had made his first week miserable but… it had led him to this room. His fortune had turned for the better since their first run-in, and he could spare some of the hoarded food he had.
He gave the rat a heel of bread, tossing it on the ground. When the rat dove for the morsel, Kole moved the desk out of the way and ducked behind the cover.
“You’re still here?” Kole asked.
That’s stupid. Obviously, he’s still here. Kole chastised himself.
“It would seem so,” Theral replied, “I don’t much get to pick when I leave.”
“Couldn’t you get back to where you were by other means?”
“Not so far as I know. I tried, but I am very, very, very far from where I was.”
When Theral didn’t elaborate, Kole dropped the issue.
If he wants to be vague and cryptic, I’ll not indulge it.
“You can take the desk,” Theral volunteered, standing up and stretching. “I should probably get some rest. I get a little carried away.”
“Thanks, I know the feeling. How’s your impossible task going?”
“I’m still working on the perspective,” Theral answered with a grin.
Theral let out a long yawn, and then moved to get in his bed. Kole saw that he’d left all his work strewn across the desk.
“Umm…” Kole began, unsure how to ask him to clean up his mess without being rude.
“Oh sorry!” Theral apologized. “I’m not used to sharing space anymore.”
Theral held his palm up before him, and his golden-scaled spellbook appeared in his palm, vanishing from the table. When Kole looked at the desk, all the pages on it disintegrated into black smoke which then quickly vanished.
Kole stared, mouth agape.
“Goodnight,” Theral said, “Wait, it is night? Right?”
Kole nodded.
“Great, don’t worry about keeping me up. I could sleep through the world ending.”
Kole took out his own far less magical spellbook, his worn notebook, and the spellbook that contained Shield and made himself at home. He’d learned two new versions of Magic Missile, and in doing so managed to get the Will cost down to 32 from 40, but he was struggling to rebuild the third. He’d switch over to Shield now to give his mind a break to process his barriers while working on something else.
Kole worked on the spell until the early signs of Will drain made themselves known. He paused, rubbing his temple, and reached for one of the books Theral had recommended, planning to study through the night, but then thought better of it.
He had the study group in the morning. While he’d failed to make an impression on Mage Tallen the first time, being a tired mess wouldn’t improve his chances. He looked over to Theral sleeping, a paper blindfold wrapped around his face and he decided to call it a night.
Kole crept into bed, not sure which of his two roommates was weirder, the time-traveling rat, or the displaced mage with magic paper.