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Soulvessel
Chapter 12 – The High Tower Academy

Chapter 12 – The High Tower Academy

“You are late because ‘things happened?’ The woman asked as she glared at Ash with an almost hostile expression. Unlike the guards, she didn’t seem to have found this funny in the slightest. And having a person so tall and strong looking at him with so much annoyance had Ash sweating coldly once more.

“What kind of things, young man?” She asked, raising her sharp chin. Her long, blue hair was tied in a tight ponytail, and it moved back and forth with every motion of her head. Her dark brown eyes narrowed as she glared at Ash. “Explain.”

Ash gulped. She looked more like a warrior than a mage with her well-defined muscles. She could probably easily wrestle a bull and win. So, it was probably best not to incur her wrath. Ash wished the Princess hadn’t forbidden him from explaining what really happened.

“The road from Serna is dangerous.” He chose his words carefully. “The convoy I was with was attacked, I got separated and survived by pure chance. I had to start walking until I came across one of the horses of the convoy and rode it here.” It was a half-lie, but the best he could come up with in such a short time.

The woman scowled. “The convoy was attacked?” she asked. “Which enforcer was accompanying it?”

Ash shrugged. “I don’t know. The daughter of the Baron of Serna was with the convoy as well – I don’t know if she made it…” He hesitated. “Did she? Is she here?”

The woman’s brows furrowed further. “I would need to check…” She muttered, seemingly lost in thought. Ash bit his lips. He didn’t particularly like Lady Mirabella, she was pompous and too prideful. That didn’t mean he wanted her to get mauled by horrifying creatures of the night though. He hoped this woman simply didn’t remember her.

“Right, despite your unusual circumstances, you seem to have a mark made by an enforcer.” The woman pointed at his gloved hand, with the crimson light of the mark glowing through the black cloth. “What’s your name?”

“Ash Morgan.” Ash replied as he glanced at his hand, then back at the woman.

“You may call me Professor Jerhia.” The woman said as she closed the door to the room and approached the pedestal at its centre. Only then did Ash remember to look around.

They were in a circular room, which was completely empty save for a pedestal at the centre of it. A thick, fluffy carpet covered the floor, and tapestry and beautiful paintings hung from the walls. A delicate glass pattern crowned the dome-like ceiling. Ash could see beyond the glass – a beautiful, whirling mix of colours swirled about. Many colours of mana, mixed together to form a beautiful view.

Atop the marble pedestal stood a glass orb, slightly larger than his head. It was perfectly circular, and he couldn’t spot a single flaw on it. He couldn’t help but wonder if magic was used to create it.

“This is a Seer’s Orb.” She said, gesturing him to approach. “Place your hand on it.”

Ash reached for the orb, he was about to touch it when Professor Jerhia caught his arm. “Without the glove.” She added with a firm expression. “It only works if it touches your skin.” Ash showed his left hand, the one without the glove, only for her to shake her head again. “The mark matters,” She added.

“I see…” Ash gently slid the glove off his hand. Professor Jerhia’s head jerked back as he reached for the orb, the mark on the scarred and mangled back on his hand glowing brightly. Despite the skin around it being weak and fragile, the mark was unharmed and unchanged, identical to the day that enforcer placed it on him.

His palm touched the cool orb, and almost immediately, the otherwise see-through orb filled with a grey colour, like someone had thrown a bucket of dye into a pond. It whirled for a while before finally settling, filling almost nine tenths of the orb. He suddenly felt exhausted, like all life had been drained from him. He supported himself using the pedestal itself so his knees wouldn’t suddenly give up.

“Professor?” He asked, seeing her gaze constantly shift from his hand to the orb, then back at his hand.

She glanced at him before finally speaking. “Your hand. What happened?”

Ash shrugged. “Fire.”

She scowled. “I see.” She then looked at the orb. “You are not from a noble house?” Seeing him shake his head in a panic, she pressed her lips together with a thoughtful expression. “Odd. Grey mana is both a blessing and a curse. It’s rare, but not particularly sought after in a mage. Do you see it?” She pointed at the orb. “The orb represents the vessel of your mana – body and soul. The grey section is the mana you have. Yours is about the same as someone who has had at least four or five years of the most basic form of training.”

She walked away from the pedestal, and Ash followed her, carefully pulling his glove over his scarred skin. “Have you had any training at all?” She asked as they left the room and walked down the wide hallway towards the entrance hall of the High Tower.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“None,” Ash replied as he tried to stop himself from gawking at the riches all around him. Just one of these gold embossed vases would be enough to buy a house in Serna, and some of these paintings seemed like they were worth a fortune. Having them just placed around these hallways without any way to protect them from damage was nothing but a gross show of wealth and riches.

“Well, then I suppose you are lucky to have so much mana to begin with.” Professor Jerhia muttered. “And you said you come from Serna?” Ash nodded, only to be met with an annoyed look. “Odd.” The Professor said with a scowl. “Keep your hair long – some students decide to cut their hair. The age of using blood for rituals and spells is long gone, we just cut a bit of hair. Keep it long so you don’t have to resort to wounding yourself every time there’s a ritual class.”

As they left the entrance hall behind and walked through a long, wide, slightly curved hallway, she continued to inform him. “There is a dress code, your clothes will be delivered to you. Do not wear anything else, including when you’re outside the academy grounds…” There were plenty of rules to keep in mind, but none of them were particularly odd or otherworldly. Most of them were simple such as not bothering the residents of the tower, not fighting, and not destroying High Tower property. “Oh, some people can see mana colours without the need of a Seer’s Orb, or other tools. If you happen to see any black or pure white mana or hear anyone say they have seen it, immediately report it.”

By the time Professor Jerhia finished reciting the High Tower Academy’s rules, they had already arrived by the dorms – a small wing on the second floor of the High Tower. The classrooms, study halls and the library was also located in this wing.

“Students rarely need to leave here – everything you need is here after all.” The Professor explained as she opened the gold embossed wooden double doors leading into the dormitory. “Your year’s representative is Damien.” She said as they stepped through the doors, into a cozy room filled with comfortable cushions, pillows, and couches.

The hardwood floor was hidden beneath a large, soft carpet that covered almost the entirety of the circular room. To their right, there was a small fireplace, with a comfortable set of couches placed around it in a half-circle. Two young women were sitting there, silently chatting. There were two hallways leading out of the common room on either side of it, and they were dotted with doors.

“Damien!” The Professor called out loudly, startling the two girls by the fireplace. A young man, much taller than Ash, walked down the hallway to the left of the common room, and greeted the professor with a respectful nod. Immediately, his bright blue eyes turned to Ash, and widened just a tad.

“This is…” Professor Jerhia paused. “What was your name again?” She asked absentmindedly.

“Ash Morgan.” He introduced himself. “Right, this is Ash Morgan. He was supposed to arrive days ago but apparently the convoy bringing him in was attacked.” Professor Jerhia said with flat voice. “Help him out, representative Galor. Go to Professor Maple for any further assistance.” She turned around while still speaking, and walked off, out the door, slamming it behind her.

“She’s pissed off…” One of the girls muttered. “As usual, she’s insufferable.” The other one nodded before standing up and walking around the couch to stand next to the young man called Damien.

As three sets of eyes glared at him with various expressions, Ash wished he could just vanish.

“We can do the introductions later,” Damien suddenly spoke up. “Surely you’re tired and in need of rest. Come, I’ll show you to your room.” He glanced at the woman next to him. “Maya, you’re staring.”

“No, I am not.” She huffed, immediately turning around, and heading back to the couch. Damien chuckled softly, then led Ash towards the narrow hallway on the left of the common room. “This is the men’s section, the women’s is on the other side.” He explained, then paused in front of a door. “This is one of the empty rooms – take it unless you want another one, though they’re all identical.”

Ash shook his head. Where his room was didn’t matter. He opened the door and stepped inside. “There’s a fresh change of clothes in the wardrobe. When you’re done settling in, come on out so we can do some proper introductions.” With that, Damien left, gently closing the door behind him.

The dorm room was small and somewhat cramped, but also cozy and comfortable. There was a bed leaning against the wall, a desk with a chair, a wardrobe, and a hanger on the wall. Ash could easily touch the low ceiling if he reached up. He put his pack on the desk and started unpacking what little he was able to bring along. Once he was done, he checked the wardrobe. Just like Damien said, there were several sets of clothes hanging inside.

He picked the ones that were his size. A set of robes to be worn over a simple, dark blue uniform. He changed into the school’s uniform, throwing the long robes over it. They weren’t entirely comfortable – the robes were much more difficult to move in than just wearing a similar length cloak.

By the time he left his room, the common room of the dorms was much livelier than before. Though, despite the cheerful voices, Ash only spotted a handful of people sitting around the fireplace. Two women and two men, three of which he had already seen when he first arrived.

“Oh, the new guy is here!” The only person he hadn’t seen before exclaimed as he hopped over the back of the sofa and ran up to Ash with a grin on his lips, and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He was a tall man with frizzy brown hair, and brown eyes. “Is it true?” He asked immediately before even letting Ash get a word in. “Was your convoy really attacked? Are you seriously the only survivor?”

“Leon!” Damien snapped.

“What?” Leon asked with a tone feigning innocence. “I’m curious, and we all heard Professor Jerhia! Besides, we all know this year’s class wasn’t supposed to be just five people!” He gestured at the common room that seemed way too large for just the five of them.

“Enough, Leon. This year has been a scarce one in talent.” Damien sighed as he walked around the sofas. “It’s just luck-“

“Yeah, right.” Leon rolled his eyes. “As if his is the first convoy that was attacked. Not a single one of the convoys that come from the west or south arrived at Bhaile-Morn, and you know it.”

Hearing Leon’s words, Ash felt his blood freeze in his veins. “What did you say?”