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Ch. 1 - Preparations

Ch. 1 - Preparations

It had been a soothing evening so far I and a couple of my club members enjoy the hours after school together in one of the drawing halls. It´s a tastefully furnished wooden room smelling of pine and expensively imported tobacco.

With a comfortable green armchair and some highly interesting scientific papers in my hand. One of my backgrounds truly can´t complain about the circumstance I find myself in.

Of course, all good has to come to an end especially if one tempts fate as we have done.

Just as I want to take a kindly offered glass of good scotch from a brown-haired guy by the name of Edith of Peltier sitting on the seat next to mine, the heavy wooden door gets violently opened with a bang, by a disheveled guy in his early twenties. Of course, I know him as he is another member of our secret little club. His name is Andrew of Redley the second son of a small-time Baron. His appearance that has enchanted the hearts of many ladies is now disheveled and his silken blond hair now sticks to the front of his head. His normally snobbish is nowhere to be found with the widely open eyes that punctuate his obvious panic.

He takes a few seconds of breathing to calm down from his aparent run up the stairs

„The - The inner guard is at the entrance!“

With one sentence utter chaos breaks out. My thesis on the frontal lobe I was reading until now completely forgot as I leave it behind I make the fastest way down to the cellar where we made our little research lab in the unused areas of the university.

I have to save as much research as I can. And what can`t be saved I have to destroy. I can´t leave any incriminating evidence behind under the off chance that they don´t know about my involvement.

Without any powerful backer or rich family like the rest of my colleagues, I can only assume that an orphan like myself will be condemned to the highest sentence, the death penalty. In a religious land like this, I can not hope for a court to understand the kind of art and scientific wonder that I am trying to create.

The room that we choose as our clubroom to conduct our experiments lies on the right side of a corridor that one would maybe expect to be part of a dungeon under some old castle and not in the basement of a reputable medical university. Light frost can be seen on the rough stone blocks that make up the architecture down here. Those frigid temperatures might explain the existence of these structures as specimens might have been preserved down hear in less abundant times.

Even though we use it for a similar purpose the frigid temperatures are actually counterproductive for our wants and needs. As for why we installed some heating down here.

I quickly identify a briefcase sufficient for my need and begin to store away the files with the observations and theories away we collected and created these last six months. As I had already expected I would never be able to save all the work and so decisively identify the documents that are less important and often out of date and get rid of them with a quick disintegration spell. Nothing short of an archmage should be able to put these together again in a readable format. Not that they would need it of course if I don´t take care of the most daunting evidence of them all lying in the middle of the room propped up on a sterile metal table.

With the face covered by a white linen cloth lies a corpse.

This corpse breathes.

This corpse has a beating heart.

This corpse is undead.

With a quick serving of the spinal cord with a bit of magic, the body is now truly dead, probably forever.

I lay one hand on top of the head and the other on the bare chest to hopefully remove all the telling signs of the fading pseudo soul that kept it from its eternal slumber until now.

Luckily we only got a few of the organs to be working so it isn´t hard to hide the traces in the background noise with a bit of healing magic.

For getting rid of the body there is no time. The possession of a corpse and secret experiments are still illegal but at least it´s not necromancy.

With my briefcase in my right hand, I make my way to the dormitories on quick feet. I still need some things from there as I might not be able to come back.

My room lies on the ground level of the left-wing of the educational complex. Who thought this was a good idea isn´t my guess as much one student left through the window at night in the search of bodily pleasure. I too disabled the basic security enchantment on my window over a year ago and so have a viable way for a quick escape.

Besides a few changes of cloth and the allowance the university pais me as a part of my scholarship, I also take a well-made black leather duster from a nail near the door that I acquired on the market for a fairly high price. It looks somewhat roughish what I found charming at those times and a bit too fitting now with my cloak and dagger escape at night.

I must quickly find new footwear should worse come to worse as I sourly can not outrun anyone with those finely make shoes. Not that it matters should the inner guard made be aware of my feeling attempt. Because an attempt it would be as none can outrun a mage that can manipulate his body to feats of superhuman levels of speed and strength. Even though the manipulation of once extended soul that controls and supports one´s bodily function isn´t a matter of talent but rather of training it is the trademark of the Inner Guard, named after their school of magic, and that they are only employed in the inner ring of the city and for the interests of the more affluent citizen.

That it is only the inner guard was employed is probably a happy happenstance as it shows that the authorities didn´t take the situation too serious or maybe wanted to avoid a scandal as I currently don`t have the Death Corps breathing down my neck.

The distance from the window sill to the ground isn`t more than one and a half meters and so easily possible even for my modest physical prowess.

Leaving the property is quick, as the ways out without triggering the alarm are well traversed.

From here on out it‘s untraversed territory as I can not know if there are already people looking for me.

It is probably best to make my way to the poorer parts of the city as they are less traversed by guards as far as I am aware. There I may be able to wait for news and inquire what my fate was should I be caught by law enforcement.

The streets in these parts of the city are well lit by magical lights. While I keep to the shadows I wonder if not walking under the lights isn´t more suspicious than trying to hide in the penumbra. But hurry as I do I am probably conspicuous either way. Nothing I can do about it.

The city of Kirsley shire is divided by two walls that went in concentric rings around the city‘s inner district and then the merchant district. Past the river that cuts the outer district in two lies the trade and craft district then past the outer wall are the slumps and less savory facilities the city has.

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My former university, because that‘s probably what it is, is situated in the outer reaches of the inner district. The Kirsley unversity of biology and the healing arts shapes together with several other schools and dormitories a student city of its own, that some would even appoint its own culture and rules.

Kirsley shire is the second wealthiest city of the Kingdom of Warglia and the scientific hub of the lands nearby. The only bigger city is the capital Manchton which lies to the north at the end of the Lintacuten river at the shores of the Golden See.

The inland is less populated as long as one avoids the rivers, I should be ablea to travel over those lands to leave the country should worse come to pass

For now, I only have to hope that the service and emergency door that is situated on the west wall is still unattended as all the other students found it who didn´t want their tutors to know about their escapade.

The key at least lies still in the crack between wall and door and opens said door without a problem.

I come out in a back alley hidden by dilapidated shakes and a bunch of old forgotten planks that might have been put there on purpose.

As nobody threatens to kill me quoting the royal law I feel safe to make my way to a homely cafe with an adjacent inn that I know about and doesn‘t have many patrons limited by the size of the establishment.

I visited it sometimes to study should I have wanted a change of surrounding and flee the company of my peers.

I am fairly certain that the old grandma that owns the building won‘t run to the next law enforcer should I appear there at these hours. A perk of being a regular with somewhat strange habits.

It sits in a courtyard behind a street of jewelry and other glim and is therefore well made as one would expect. The building of visible wooden beams and white gips opens up towards a few trees that are surrounded by residential buildings.

A candle still shines in the window I know as Mrs. Bishop´s apartment. An ironic name as I know she is an atheist as I am.

She claims her nocturnal habits to the reduced sleep one needs with enhanced age. But I think she is more than what she lets on.

I knock at her shutters as I don´t want to wake half the neighborhood to catch her attention.

It isn´t long until the oaken door is opened and I can see the jovial features that I expected. Even though she looks like the kind of woman that would gift little orphans with cookies I imagine seeing a glint of something more behind those wrinkled eyes.

“ Nicolas my boy is that you? Oh my! What brings you out at those ungodly times. Come in come in you must be half-frozen to death.”

It was quite warm outside but I refrain from commenting and instead thank her for her hospitality.

She quickly leads me to a table with a dexterity one wouldn´t expect from a woman her age.

She makes her way to the water cooker to prepare a tee. Without heating the stove. Why am I even beating around the bush she is obviously a witch or at least a magically gifted woman. Something that is illegal under the lectures of Theatcle. Something our military severely regrets in times of war.

Another reason why I can hope for her secrecy.

Meanwhile, I ponder how much I should tell her. I trust her, but I neither want to put her in harm‘s way nor do I want to risk it unnecessarily.

Making up my mind I decide to tell her at least a part of the truth but am stopped in my tracks by Mrs. Bishop.

“You don´t have to tell me if you don´t want to, you know my boy? I can see the distress plainly on your face and therefore know of its urgency. I can give you housing as long as you want. Or is it something else? A question may be that you had to have answered this late at night?”

I am surprised that I am being read so easily as I am always told to have an especially expressionless face. The events of the evening must have hit me deeper than I thought.

Adjusting my spectacles to overplay the interruption of my thoughts I answer truthfully.

“ Accommodations for one or two days should be sufficient. I might be leaving at an unannounced time so let me pay you in advance just in case.”

“ You don´t have to but I assume you will insist. It´s hard to find good, interesting company these days.”

While I am here she will often listen to me ramble about my studies and give some insight I find generally helpful. She seemed to possess a bright mind that some academy was lost to if she could have visited one in her youth. Or she might have. I never inquired too much about her past as she seemed averse to discussing it. The only thing I can affirm with certainty is her lack of remaining family. The reason I presume she took a liking to me.

I am happy to accomplish her wish as an in-depth discussion of magic and biology helps me to forget my worries like nothing else. Even if it is more me telling and her listening while she takes care of some of the housework.

I had been a student of biology and healing magic for over four years now. This of the 5 years that my scholarship granted me at the age of 17 for my talent in the arcane. As one can imagine I am now 21 and severely bored with the curriculum. It´s not even like I am some unequal genius. It´s just the consequence of a school that tries to get even the last noble scion a degree. And those come in all forms of talent or the lack thereof. Eventually, I just decided to look into various curiosities that catch my fancy in my off time.

While Ms. Bishop certainly listened and probably learned one thing or the other in our past correspondence, it was still obvious that the various wonders of the brain aren´t a part of her knowledge base.

It must have been not far from the middle of the night as I finally went to bed in the room that was granted to me on the first floor. Winded from a long and eventful day.

- - - - - -

The next day I awake early thanks to a handy two-part artifact that allows me to set an alarm for either 2, 7, or 10 h later. The price rose exponentially the more options one wanted.

Clothed in my least conspicuous wear I make my way to inquire more about what yesterday transpired after I left the school in such a hurried fashion. On the topic of fashion, I also have to buy new attire, as my least conspicuous cloth still speaks of the wealth the school has that provided me with it.

For that, I quickly inquire from my helpful landlady about any shoemaker that I could visit to replace my gentlemen‘s shoes that are a boon in the city but less so should I be forced to leave it.

I find it ironic that a man who has nothing to his name appears too rich to be inconspicuous.

Nonetheless, I find the establishment without problem, walking with the masses with the hope of disappearing between all the other people that go about their daily business. Being painfully aware that I can´t look around as it would be the most suspicious thing I could do.

The shop I find myself at is nestled between two other shops that seemed to be newer additions to the street. The small business seemed to be singularly owned by an older gentleman with maybe apprentices in the back. I can only hear them.

The master shoemaker - a title I can only confirm seeing the plenty of selection to choose from - seemed to be unbothered while I ruminate through the small room that is the storefront and continues with his work.

All the variety was present that the upper class or a member of the gentry could want. From traversing one´s manor to withstanding the demands of a wild hunt.

But as I am low on money and still want to buy other things, I turn away from the products of deer leather and instead put my attention upon the makes of the less skilled employees as well as the used and repaired footwear that is displayed in one of the corners with discounted prices.

I already decided upon finding boots. Good boots were reliable and would hold one warm in winter‘s time.

A pair of grey boots reaching up over the calves, made of sturdy and used leather quickly catches my fancy. It´s the gear one would expect of a bandit or someone who thinks themself dark and mysterious. Regardless, or maybe even because of that. I personally think its roughish style meshes well with my duster. At least I wouldn´t have to worry about shoes for the next few years, or ten.

„Excuse me, those shoes here how much would they cost? And if you had a bit of stuffing for the front for better fit, would be nice.“

The man now finally looking up takes a few seconds to inspect what I hold.

„Those bricks? 25 Krowns should be an adequate price. It´s good to finally get rid of them. hmm, yeah the rest isn´t a problem either, we have rough wool for this kind of stuff in the box over there.“

25 crowns, a good price are promptly paid and the new shoos put on. He may have been a little suspicious because I didn´t try to haggle, but all a law enforcer would get by finding out I was here is that I had still been in the city as of the time of now. I still berate myself for being careless.

A simple shirt without adorn and greyish-brown throwers to keep the coolorsceme that I find in a shop nearby and I am on my way to find a news-bord.

Those bords are maintained by the city management to show information of interest such as new legislation, ads, news, and bounties. They can be found on many of the big junctions and plazas so by following the market street I´m currently on It´s not hard to find what I am looking for.

Keeping back to hide my appearance from the city guard that is stationed right next to the board. I look through the leafs of newer paper for anything related to the trouble I find myself in.

Shure enough my description can be found under the header of criminal with the consequential bounty. But without anything to what I have supposedly done. No wonder, the school would want to keep any such thing behind lock and door to prevent any kind of scandal.

Making my way back using the press of people for cover for the unlikely prospect of pursuers, it isn´t long before I am back at the cafe. Maybe for the last time I realize.

As I can see customers enjoying their lunch break sitting at tables before the house and I can´t rule out the possibility of being recognized by another patreon. I instead use the side entrance that I got in yesterday evening.

Opening the door with the spare key I got provided I find a Mrs. Bishop making her way to me with a small packet in her hands.

„ Mister Nicolas, excuse me but there was a man here looking for you.“

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