A small grey squirrel with a bushy tail stared at Rygic with its black beady eyes. Perched on its hind legs, it clutched an acorn in its tiny hands. Rygic responded with a gentle smile, captivated by how cute and innocent the creature looked. He crouched down and slowly began to approach the creature with a hand reaching out. In Rygic’s palm were several juicy purple berries he picked from a nearby bush. Suddenly, the creature’s demeanor changed. It dropped the acorn it was holding and bared its razor-sharp teeth. Rygic immediately stopped. His gaze remained fixed on the squirrel while he slowly withdrew his hand. As if offended by Rygic’s gesture, the creature lunged at him, soaring through the air with deadly-looking claws extending from its tiny hands. Dumbfounded by the speed and ferocity of the creature, Rygic stood rooted in place. Just as the creature was about to land on Rygic, he covered his face from the attack, and suddenly woke up.
Skoshi was sitting nearby on a log close to the campfire, “Bad dream?” he asked. A look of concern on his face.
Rygic took a quick glance around. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized he was still nestled in his bedroll. The creature’s attack had been nothing more than a dream. He looked at Skoshi and nodded in reply.
“Want to tell me about it?” asked Skoshi in a kind voice.
“Uh...sure,” replied Rygic. He wasn’t sure how Skoshi would react when he recounted the vivid dream of a small, cute-looking furry creature violently attacking him. But Skoshi’s concern sounded genuine, so Rygic felt encouraged to tell Skoshi what he dreamt about. He mentioned how he tried to feed the creature, “... and then the creature leapt towards me, and I woke up,” Rygic finished.
Skoshi, to his credit, did not laugh nor make fun of Rygic. Instead, he flashed the tiniest of grins before quickly hiding it. “From your description of the creature, it sounds like you dreamt about a Wondaeri Squirrel. My apologies. If I had known that casually mentioning it the way I did last night would have such an impact, I would have phrased it more carefully. They are common in this area and pose no real threat unless provoked. Even then, they would most likely run away rather than attack.”
Relieved that Skoshi would not tease him, Rygic nodded. He slowly stood up and stretched before walking closer and warming his hands near the fire. “So, what is the plan for today?”
“Good question. I am eager to get back to Rinkon to report last night’s events. Let’s see if we can help Sergeant Balram and his guardsmen pack up,” suggested Skoshi. “Oh, and Happy Birthday Rygic!”
“Thank you, Skoshi,” Rygic said, though he was still unsure of how he felt about it.
“I am afraid I didn’t bring any suitable gifts. When we get back to Rinkon, I'll remedy that.” Before Rygic could tell him that wasn’t necessary, Skoshi said, “Let's go find the good sergeant.”
Making their way over to Sergeant Balram, Rygic noticed black smoke rising from a large fire off to the side. Within its flames, remnants of what appeared to be orc armor burned slowly. “We typically burn any trances of Kosany when possible,” noted Skoshi, seeing Rygic’s questioning brow as he observed the fire. “If left alone, they could corrupt the area.”
“Corruption? How so?” asked Rygic.
“I have seen cases where the land around their fallen bodies ceases to grow until cleansed. Other times, they can cause the local wildlife to act very much like your friend in your dream last night.”
Rygic quickly glanced at Skoshi’s face, trying to detect if he was making fun of him. After seeing his stoic expression, he assumed he was being truthful. They soon came upon several guardsmen loading supplies into a covered wagon. Though the wagon’s canvas was ripped in a few areas, it otherwise appeared to be in working order.
“Good morning!” Sergeant Balram called out. He was approaching from the other side of the wagon with several guardsmen carrying those who were too wounded to make the journey on foot.
“Good morning,” replied both Rygic and Skoshi.
“Allow us to help,” offered Skoshi. He gestured to Rygic to follow him as they walked towards Sergeant Balram’s group.
Just as they were loading the last of the wounded onto the wagon, a small commotion caught Rygic’s attention as another group headed their way. Among them was Lyric, the healer he had seen the night before. Unlike the night before, she now wore her hood down, revealing long curly blonde hair. He noted Lyric’s look of exhaustion and wagered she must have stayed up late into the night tending to the wounded. She seemed to be having an argument of sorts with some of the guardsmen.
“Good morning!” greeted Skoshi as the group reached the wagon.
“Good morning...Magnus Skoshi?” ventured Lyric as if she was hazarding a cautious guess.
Smiling, Skoshi nodded. “Recognized me, did you?” Those around them were astonished that Skoshi was not only a mage but held the rank of Magnus. Rygic briefly side-glanced at Skoshi in surprise, noting the expressions on the faces of the crew upon hearing the title “Magnus.”
“Please forgive me for not addressing you properly last night,” Lyric quickly replied. Her eyes were unable to meet Skoshi’s as if she had broken some rule.
“Nothing to forgive. You were quite busy, and the lighting was poor. Besides, I purposely left out my title when I introduced myself to the good sergeant. Outside of an official capacity, I rather not be addressed so formally,” Skoshi truthfully added. “Now, tell me what you were arguing about.”
“About that...Skoshi,” Lyric hesitantly began. It was clear that after she confirmed Skoshi’s rank, it was difficult not to address him so informally. “Could you tell them I am fit to travel on foot? They insist that I travel in the wagon.”
“She’s been up all night tending to the wounded and needs to rest,” explained the frustrated guardsmen closest to Skoshi.
“Ah I see,” remarked Skoshi. He was absently stroking his chin as if thinking things over though Rygic could clearly see the playfulness in his eyes. “Lyric, get into the wagon,” he ordered.
“But Magnus,” she said before quickly correcting herself, “Skoshi, I can walk. I feel fine. My mana can regenerate as I walk,” retorted Lyric.
“We both know mana regenerates much slower when not resting. What happens if we are ambushed again? No, you need to regain your strength. There is no shame in riding the wagon back to Rinkon,” Skoshi firmly stated. With a look of utter defeat, Lyric gave the briefest of nods. “Cheer up. I intend to inform your academy instructors how well you performed,” informed Skoshi with a gentle smile.
Her expression became noticeably brighter. “Thank you, Skoshi!” she exclaimed. Lyric hurriedly climbed into the back of the wagon with a wide grin.
Rygic wondered about the academy Skoshi mentioned and whether it was where Lyric received her training. He made a mental note to ask Skoshi about it during their journey. Skoshi, seemingly satisfied that Lyric would heed him, turned to Rygic. “Come, Rygic. We’ll walk behind the wagon and pass the time with any questions I was unable to answer last night.”
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A rather tall guardsman with straight black hair pulled into a bun overheard Skoshi mention that he would walk. She hurried over with her horse and tried to hand the reins over to him as she quickly implored, “Skoshi, please allow us the honor of riding on horseback! The last thing we want is to have our rescuer walk.”
“That’s rather kind of you, but we’ll walk. It’s a nice day and I'd like to stretch my legs,” Skoshi kindly replied.
Seeing Skoshi wasn’t going to change his mind, the guard nodded with a frown and mounted her horse. She guided her tan and white horse to the side and then rode towards the front of the wagon along with another rider.
Skoshi watched the riders for a moment before turning towards Rygic and asked, “So, anything else you’d like answers to?”
Seeing that Skoshi was amiable to answering questions, Rygic quickly asked, “I was wondering how long it would take to get to Rinkon.”
“We should arrive there sometime late afternoon. We were able to get an early start thanks to how well Sergeant Balram and his guardsmen prepared. They are well disciplined,” stated Skoshi. Rygic noticed those guardsmen within hearing distance seemed to walk a little taller as if their hearts swelled with pride.
“Is Magnus some sort of title?” inquired Rygic. “Lyric reacted as if she had insulted you for not addressing you sooner.”
“Yes, Magnus is a title for any mage that can cast tier four spells. As for the possible insult, just like with any profession, there are some who put a lot of time and energy into their work and the titles are recognition of it. Personally, I find titles to be a bit stuffy,” quipped Skoshi.
“Tier four spells?” asked Rygic.
Skoshi took in the beauty of the wooded lane they were walking along as he gathered his thoughts before answering. He was partially afraid of overloading Rygic with too many new concepts. He could still remember how overwhelming the first couple of days could be. Rygic could tell by the wistful look in Skoshi’s eyes that he was recalling a fond moment. Not wanting to interrupt him, he waited patiently for the answer.
“Tiers are a way to explain how difficult a spell is to cast. Many factors are used to gauge difficulty. Sometimes, it's a matter of knowing the correct incantation and gestures; other times, it's the amount of mana you can allocate to a spell,” explained Skoshi. “And before you ask, think of mana as the fuel source for a spell. Each creature has what we call a mana pool, representing the amount of mana stored within. Some are born with more than others, but with training, one can increase that pool.”
“Will you be willing to train me? I don’t know how much mana I have, but it can’t be much.” Rygic quickly added with a whisper, “Considering I just got here…”
“Good question. Since you brought up training, now would be a good time as any to ask this; do you wish to become a mage?”
“You mean I have a choice? I assumed since you were a mage, and we are from the same house, I was to be one as well,” commented Rygic.
“Of course, you have a choice,” answered Skoshi. “Remember, you are not forced into direct combat. More will be made clear to you as time goes on. And yes, before you ask, there have been a few who opted for a quiet life here on Terra.”
“Without repercussions?” Rygic doubtfully questioned. The whole reason he was given a second chance was clearly explained by Kelis. He was to aid the people of Terra in their fight against the Kosany.
“Without repercussions,” Skoshi affirmed. “Take being a farmer for example. If you provided food to the troops, isn’t that aid?”
“I suppose so,” replied Rygic, though he was still having his doubts. After a moment of playing out a scenario where he lived a normal life and could still help in his head, he replied, “Yes, I think I’d like to become a mage.”
“Excellent! When we arrive in Rinkon, we’ll have you tested for which magic you have an affinity for. With any luck you’ll have multiple affinities to pick from and be admitted to the academy to start your training,” said Skoshi.
“What if I don’t make it into the academy,” Rygic worriedly commented.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Skoshi. “The academy isn’t some elitist club. Anyone who wishes to become a mage may join.”
Rygic couldn’t help but feel relieved. “I won’t squander the opportunity.” He felt what he said was true. He would try to become one of the best mages alive on Terra. To do that, he would put all his effort into maximizing his training. A sudden shift in shadows caught his attention, pulling him from his thoughts. Looking up, he was surprised to see a gigantic wooden object leisurely flying in the direction they were heading.
“Ah, you are in luck! That is the Matuska I believe. It's one of the airships that brings Rinkon supplies to stock the border with.”
“Amazing!” gasped Rygic as he fixated on the floating marvel. Birds gracefully soared by, treating the airborne vessel as if it were a natural extension of the sky. Its imposing size was all the more accentuated by billowing white sails that stretched across the expanse, catching the breeze with ease. On its stern stood a brown and golden-yellow flag. Occasionally, loud creaks of wood resonated through the air with the constant flapping of the sails and the flag as it slowly made its way to its destination. “Will it travel to the border after stopping in Rinkon?”
“If only,” commented Skoshi. “No, unfortunately, as you have witnessed, it moves too slow. Its lack of speed paired with its colossal size would make it an easy target for the Kosany.”
The airship’s sails were a clear sign of what propelled the ship, but he could not figure out how it didn’t come crashing down. “How does it stay afloat?” asked Rygic.
“A combination of magic, runes, and mages,” replied Skoshi.
“Amazing,” whispered Rygic, still in awe.
They watched as the airship slowly passed out of sight. Soon after, their conversation gradually shifted to more generalized topics as they continued their journey to Rinkon. The weather was pleasantly warm with a welcomed refreshing breeze that carried the smell of nearby wildflowers, and the terrain was steadily improving. The thought of having experienced a daunting battle with the orcs just the night before seemed far behind them, what with the droning sounds of horse hooves, the wagons, and light conversation. They had taken a few breaks, mostly for meals and to allow those in the wagons to stretch their legs. Spirits were high, with many enjoying the uneventful journey. It wasn’t long before Rinkon’s immense grey walls of stone came into view. They gave the city a look of absolute protection. While the walls were impressive, what drew Rygic’s attention was the Matuska docked to a tall tower as well as two multi-storied buildings in the middle of the city. He wondered what those buildings housed.
Before long, they found themselves standing before the imposing main gates of the city, their massive size and reinforced design seemed to be a testament to their importance. They had finally reached their long-awaited destination. Sergeant Balram walked over to Skoshi and heartfully announced, “Magnus, thank you again for your aid against the orcs. Should you ever have need of me, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Think nothing of it! Fortune favored our paths. Until we meet again,” replied Skoshi.
“Until we meet again,” Sergeant Balram repeated back. He took a few steps back and joined his guardsmen who all stood in a line facing Skoshi. As one, they proudly saluted him, showing their respect before turning and walking through the gates. The guards stationed nearby stared at the display, perplexed as to what had prompted the sudden salute. A few curious bystanders whispered amongst themselves, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening.
With a lighthearted step, Lyric walked up to Skoshi and Rygic. “Thank you again, Skoshi, for your timely rescue. Rygic, perhaps we’ll cross paths at the academy.” She flashed him a warm smile and her eyes lingered on him for a moment as she waited for a reply.
“Likewise, Lyric,” answered Rygic somewhat awkwardly.
“Farewell, and good luck with your studies!” Skoshi quickly responded, saving Rygic from stumbling over his words.
“Thank you!” replied Lyric.
With that, Lyric turned and walked through the gates, heading for the Academy. Rygic and Skoshi followed not too far behind. Once through, they headed in a slightly different direction. Skoshi mentioned they were headed towards the House Olden’s manor. They took a road line with many shops and stalls that ran along the city wall. The civilians were bustling around, going about business as usual, calling for customers, selling, buying, and haggling. There were so many scenes to take in and plenty of wares and items of interest to observe. Rygic stared appreciatively at the shops that were displaying gleaming swords and well-crafted armor. What seemed to gain the most attention from the two elves, however, was the aroma of the various food stalls. The savory smells were intoxicating for both as they were beginning to feel hungry.
The day was beginning to grow old, with the sun just setting on the horizon, when the two finally walked up to the manor. Confusion grew on Rygic’s face as he stared at a wooden sign hung on the door displaying the tavern’s name, The Rusty Cow, along with a drawing of a cow lazily eating hay. Laughter and the sounds of clanking mugs could be heard through the door. Warm welcoming lights shone through the cracks in the curtains.
“Come on, I’ll treat you to the best ale in Rinkon,” Skoshi said with a gentle pat on Rygic's back, leading him to the door. The two entered with the warm glow of the room and the rich aroma of freshly brewed ale beckoning them forward.