Journal Entry #1
Heard the church bell ring while out checking the rabbit snares. Dropped the hare I was skinning and ran as fast as I could to the nearest gate. The town was in complete panic when I made it safe inside, and everyone was hysterical as they piled into the church.
Mom spotted me as I entered, then grasped me tightly in her arms as her entire body shook with intense sobs. She kept trying to speak, but couldn’t stop gasping for air as dad and Linn each put a hand on me, both with stern faces.
A knot twisted in my stomach, and I swiveled my head around, trying to find Petter, but my little brother wasn’t with us. I locked eyes with dad, too afraid to speak the words.
He shook his head, then spoke the infamous words that plague the nightmares of every single villager, “The monster got him.”
---
Travis
Windsday, the 25th of Eighthmonth
The veil of sleep pulled away from my mind, replacing it with absolute bliss as my body registered the soft and warm comfort of my bedsheets. Although it was tempting to stay in there all day, the increasing blood flow in my body was already making me grow restless, and eventually I couldn’t lie still.
“Good morning, I take it you’re feeling better?”
Looking over at the clock while I began my daily stretching routine, I noticed that it was the first time I’d awoken early since my encounter with Adamanrion and Apheros. It was also the first night I didn’t have nightmares waking me up in the middle of the night.
“Yeah, I guess so. Did I wake at all during the night? I can’t remember.”
“Nope, you slept like a log.” The room suddenly grew quieter, indicating that Arc must have casted a [Sound Barrier] to keep our next conversation from being overheard, “I know you’re starting finals today, but are you ready to talk about what happened at Adamanrion’s church?”
I let out a deep exhale, found a comfy spot on the bed, then picked up Arc to hold him in my lap, “I’m not sure how much I remember, and some of what I do went over my head.”
“I’d be shocked if you managed to retain everything. You were a bit preoccupied. What with you getting some very hard proof that I was talking to Addy.”
I chuckled, “I think I would have preferred the beard.”
“Can’t fault you for that, though I will say you handled it well, all things considered.”
I looked down at Arc, and narrowed my eyes, trying to determine if he was pulling my line, “You’re joking, right? I thought my heart was going to explode at one point, my vision kept going dark, and poor 5751054 had to endure me bear-hugging him in full armor wile I made a river of my tears and snot. How is that handling it well?”
“You remained standing and conscious despite physically feeling the presence of two gods. I can’t imagine what the overwhelming sensation was like for you.”
Gripping Arc’s handle, I thought back to the feeling I had when both gods invaded my attuned poleaxe, “Attuning something small is like drinking a cup of water, not too difficult unless you’ve already downed a few canteens. My poleaxe feels like I’m chugging a gallon of milk when I fully sync with it. Those gods… it was like my head was forced back, a waterskin was shoved into my mouth… and… when I looked up… it was attached to an entire ocean of water… the only thing stopping it was a hand pinching off the flow from drowning me.”
“That… that sounds horrifying… I guess that explains some of the night terrors you were having.”
Neither of us spoke for a few minutes as we sat there, enjoying the silence, but after taking a meditative breath, I finally thickened my bark up enough to start asking questions.
“So… you are a god?”
Arc sighed, “I guess I am? I’m still having a hard time believing it. It’s not like I can go around bending reality.” He paused, then sighed once more, “Then again, it’s probably a good thing I can’t. I’m already in enough trouble as it is.”
I smiled, “Things were simpler when I thought you were only a talking tree. I’m just glad you’re not being taken away from me.”
“Same here. Speaking of… your list of titles is starting to grow, how are you liking the new one?”
“Paladin of the Arcane… Why did you ask to include the article?”
“It sounds better that way. Trust me, it’s all about the presentation, a little gravitas can go a long way when you’re trying to make an impression.”
I rolled my eyes at my sword, “Great… you haven’t even been a minor god for a week, and its already going to your head. Are you going to start demanding I pray to you now too?”
“Umm… about that…”
My eyes narrowed at Arc, and I began to scowl, “Seriously?”
“Well… you see… you kinda… have been.”
That wiped the expression off my face, leaving me baffled, “Okay, please explain.”
“You know how we found out that all this time you technically didn’t have a blessing? Well… a prayer can be just about anything that you do to create a personal connection to a god, reciting prose, singing from a hymnal, practicing a divine tenet,” he made a quick pause, “giving them a friendly rub on their pommel…”
My eyes dawned with realization, “So, when Adamanrion said that you were sensing me trying to form a connection with you…”
“Yeah… not sure if it counts as heresy, but if it does, Apheros didn’t seem to care. Heck, he’s the one who officially made you my paladin. Even gave you a to-do list for your first duties.”
That sparked a memory, “Oh, that’s right, didn’t Apheros say I need to help you fix your housing or something? What did he mean by that?”
“He did…” Arc paused to make the sound of a deep breath, “Okay, before I can explain, I’m going to need to give you some very basic information about souls. So, no heroic sacrifices*. Got it?”*
Grinning, I nodded my head, “No promises.”
“Ugh… Well, for starters, every single sapient being, and a few non-sapient ones, have a soul. Souls expand in size and power by connecting to the physical plane of existence and experiencing life. Think of a plant sprout growing roots to collect the water in the soil. The soil is the physical matter your soul attaches to. For me, it’s my sword body, and in your case, it’s that growing meat sack you keep stuffing with food.”
As if on cue, my stomach growled from the lack of breakfast, making us both chuckle.
“Okay, I think I’m following so far, what do you mean by experiences though?”
“Anytime you interact with someone, something, or someplace, your soul will grow a little bit in size. Some experiences, however, will provide more nutrients than others. Remember back when you were training to trigger your mana for the first time? Challenging yourself by lifting just a little more weight, working hard to solve a tricky puzzle, exposing yourself to a new environment or culture, all of them are like adding liquid fertilizer to the soil for you to suck up.”
I nodded along, finding a lot of similarities between what Arc was saying and Apheros’ journey to obtain strength, knowledge, and wisdom. Which made sense, given the topic.
“Is that why Apheros no longer walks amongst us anymore?” His soul grew too big?”
“Probably. If your average person or animal is a flower, a minor god would be the size of a bush, and then a god would be the tree towering over everyone. Sadly, there is a downside to growing so large. Our bodies are like flowerpots, the bigger your soul gets, the harder it is to find a pot that you can fit in.”
The still fresh memory of being connected to the two gods and sensing their ocean-like enormity sent a shiver down my spine, “Yeah, I can’t imagine anything being able to contain that kind of power.”
“Exactly, it’s why I didn’t even consider the possibility that I’m a minor god. Though, I guess it’s possible that my definition is incorrect, given that it sounds like I’m not the only soul trapped in a weapon. But, back to the original topic, my housing. It’s not an immediate concern, but I am slowly running out of room for my soul in here. And I’m not sure if it’s related, but I also think I’m at my limit for mana density, I’ve only added a few motes over the past month.”
I activated my mana sight to give Arc a thorough look, but, like usual, his insides were a messy kaleidoscope of different mana types. Not just the blend of basic elements throughout, but a good portion of Metal Mana inside the fuller, a smudge of green Wood Mana near the tip, and even speckles of violet Ice and pink Lightning mana near the cross-guard.
“How can you even tell? Everything’s a jumbled mess in there.”
“Hey! Don’t body-shame me. I raised you better than that.”
Letting out an annoyed groan, I decided to get back on topic, “Sorry. Do you know what we need to fix?”
“Umm… I’m not sure… I guess we should have asked. Apheros mentioned that a necromancer wrecked my sword, scaring off the creature that was originally in here, so if I can figure out what its original condition looked like, maybe I can start fixing things.”
I frowned, “How did they even damage your body in the first place? I literally whacked you against a pile of Order infused stone and you didn’t even gain a scratch.”
“Huh… That’s a good question… Maybe that’s what I should focus on to fix my sword-body.” Arc began to groan, “Ugh, so many questions… And I never did get an answer to why it was my soul that was planted in here.”
“Yeah… I assume Torbolt or Aelder were supposed to tell you why, but I… kinda took you away before Torbolt’s Chosen could come get you.”
“True, but that’s not what’s irking me. What really scrapes my boat bottom is, ‘Why didn’t they tell me before placing me in this sword?’”
That left me stumped. Admittingly, Apheros isn’t known for being very intelligent outside of his domains, hence why he likely didn’t think anything was amiss with having Aelder babysit. But although my knowledge of Torbolt is lacking, I know one of his domains is military tactics. Not giving a pre-mission briefing before deployment seems out of character for him.
“I have a feeling we’re not going to find an answer anytime soon. Unless we figure out a way to ask Torbolt or Aelder.”
“Great… our options are an unreliable perpetual child, and a war god who’s super pissed at us.”
I sighed, letting out a long breath, “Oh yeah, we’re also supposed to figure out how to make amends with Torbolt. I hope you’re keeping track of all of this.”
“Don’t worry, I updated the quest log.”
Light and Shadow Mana drifted off Arc, and into the air in front of me before swirling into a readable text.
Quest Log:
· Buy posters and other decorations for room.
· Buy an apology gift for Issac
· Buy a secure lockbox for the aelderwood scraps Father Viburnum sent you.
· Get ear pierced so you can wear the gift Seleyna gave you.
· Help Arc fix his housing.
· Find a way to apologize to Torbolt.
· Carve mana channels into poleaxe.
· Make some drunken mistakes at a brothel, preferably with non-human companions.
I read through the list, preferring it greatly over having them spoken aloud, but raised my eyebrow at the last line, “Seriously, you added that?”
“He did ask nicely, maybe he’ll even give you a blessing if you father enough future spartans?”
I waved my hand through the list with a groan, disrupting Arc’s mana, then changed into my uniform and made my bed. Walking out of my room, I overheard Drozuk’s alarm going off, and was about to leave after grabbing my mail, but stopped when I noticed a wrapped gift in the wall-embedded mailbox.
“Who’s it from?”
“Hmm… don’t see a tag…” My hand began to reach forward to open it but was halted by Arc shouting.
“Wait! Don’t open it. There’s an object with a high amount of Metal Mana inside, and a glass container filled with something dense with Wood Mana.”
“You think it’s something harmful?”
“Well, you did anger a bunch of nobles from all three kingdoms just the other day and are now establishing a personal connection with the crown. I might just be paranoid, but a gift-wrapped explosive sent by a jealous rival wouldn’t be too surprising.”
I examined the gift with my own mana sight, annoyed that I couldn’t make out what was inside either, “Great, what do I do now? I don’t know how to disarm a bomb, I’m not a commando.”
“You got your Messaging Stone? Maybe Sir Tracy can help.”
Oh, that’s a smart idea. I haven’t talked to him yet, but he did say to Message him for help if I found myself in trouble.
I reached into my secured valuables pouch, then touched the stone, syncing a newly formed [Message] spell to match the same frequency as the stone’s, “Hello, Sir Tracy? Are you there?”
The sound of a groan, followed by a yawn emanated from my spell before the Royal Knight’s voice could be heard, “Travis? Is that you?”
“Yes, sorry for waking you, but… umm… I received an unmarked gift in the mail today… and, I’m probably just being overly cautious, but…”
“Ah, say no more. Just give me a sec, and whatever you do, don’t open or disturb the package.”
I stood there in silence, awkwardly still holding the gift in my hand, too scared now to set it down.
“Okay, just hang tight, I’ve sent a commando to assist.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Thanks, sorry again for the trouble.”
“None at all. I’d rather be safe than sorry. Besides, you and all the other students on campus shouldn’t be receiving unmarked packages. While we’re waiting, was there anything else I could help you with?”
“Umm… I do want to ask about what happened in the palace before I was suddenly forced to take four of my practical exams early and all at once, but I’d imagine that to be a long tale.”
Sir Tracy chuckled over the channel, “Yeah, that could take a while. It’d probably be easier for me to tell you in person, then I could bring in flow-charts to help disseminate all the political maneuvers and under-the-table deals everyone was trying to make. Speaking of, have you told anyone about the gift Seleyna gave you?”
“No, I’ve kept that hidden in my valuables pouch. Hey, I suppose I could ask you. I don’t know anything about artifice piercings, is there a particular spot on my ear it’s supposed to go?”
“There’s some flexibility in where you place it, but I’d recommend putting it in the inner conch of your ear. That way it will be difficult to see, even with mana sight.”
A knock came from my nearby door, and I checked through the door’s peephole to see a figure dressed in dark molded leather and cloth. I opened the door to allow them entry, and after they tilted their head towards the potential explosive in my hands, I handed the gift over to them.
“Okay, commando is here.”
The commando whipped out a tiny razor blade hidden in their sleeve, stepped into my bathroom, then shut the door. The sound of my shower running could be heard briefly, then after a few more moments, they walked out and handed the gift back to me with a thumbs up.
“False alarm?”
They nodded.
“Travis?” Drozuk shouted from his room, “Is someone here?”
“Just Bridget’s dad disarming a bomb.”
“What the?” Drozuk popped his head out of his room and frowned, “Ha, ha, really funny.” He then shut his door to get ready for breakfast.
Confused about his reaction, I turned back to thank the commando, but startled when I realized that they vanished.
“You still alive?” Sir Tracy’s voice echoed out of my spell.
“Sorry, all clear.” I opened the gift’s lid to look inside, “Oh, it’s just a fancy shaving kit. I don’t see a note or anything to indicate who it’s from though…”
“Could it be a late birthday gift?”
“Maybe? I’m not sure why someone would get me one, unless… ugh, they were trying to get underneath my bark…”
“Underneath your bark?”
“Err… parking the manure wagon a yard away from the pen?”
“What? No, I understood the first expression. Why would a shaving kit be a backhanded gift?”
Groaning with embarrassment, I explained over the channel, “My beard development has been painfully slow, and my friends are more than aware of my disdain.”
I looked down once more at the insulting gift. Everything was included, there was a single-edged razor blade, a bar of peppermint scented soap, a thickly bristled brush, a mug to foam up the lather, and a bottle of oil to apply after finishing.
“I’ll admit, it is a nice kit, the blade is even made of mid-grade dwarven steel.”
“Hmm… It’s possible it was given in earnest. When I was training to learn Blade enchantments, one of the things we used were shaving razors. Since they’re so small and thin, you need excellent mana control not just to create the spell formation, but to manipulate it afterwards. Trust me, you learn very quickly when even the slightest nick will make your neck spray out a geyser of blood.”
I joined Tracy as he chuckled over the channel, “Huh, you might be right. I heard we’ll learn weapon enchantments next semester, so maybe the person who gifted me this knows that?”
“Sounds like a reasonable assumption.”
“Hmm… that doesn’t really narrow down who could have given it to me though.” I sighed as my stomach grumbled, “I’ll have to worry about that some other time though, I’ve got more important things to do right now.”
“Right, it’s finals week. You’re up to your eyeballs in exams.”
“Actually, I was referring to breakfast, but you’re not incorrect. My schedule is still packed full, even with four less exams. I’ll try to find an hour to chat later this week. If not, I’m sure I’ll get bored while traveling for my assignment next week. Or are you going to be busy with your own Fall Expedition?”
“Sadly no, with the bulk of the kingdom’s military outside of the capital, the city’s defenses will be at their weakest, so I’ll be on watch here. Feel free to Message me whenever though, especially during your return trip, I’ll probably be just as bored. Monster attacks on the capital nearly drop down to zero towards the end of the Fall purge.”
“Okay then, it was nice chatting with you.
“Likewise.”
---
Arc
I impatiently waited for Travis to finish his second exam of the day, this one for Wind Spells 1, still irritated about how he made me repeatedly promise after lunch that I wouldn’t help him. To add insult to injury, the little bastard even pulled out a pen to write down his answers! My focus hovered over the vexing test booklet, the trace amounts of Wood Mana in the ink camouflaged perfectly into the Wood Mana of the paper, making it impossible for me to read both the questions and answers.
Honestly, the lack of trust really hurt. It’s not like I’d tell him the answers, just… maybe make a subtle cough if he got something wrong, or…
Travis closed the exam booklet, gave his neck a good stretch before standing up, then headed to the front of the room where his professor and teacher assistants were waiting.
“Travis,” Professor Quinsandoral motioned the teen over with an enthusiastic grin, “come chat for a bit while I have you. I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you yet.”
Travis walked over to the high elf, looking up at him with an inquisitive look as the professor waved their hands to weave their synced Wind Mana in the air into a formation. The mana lines formed a double-walled lattice, creating a [Sound Barrier], but there were a few additions to the standard spell.
Professor Quinsandoral chuckled as Travis used his mana sight to also see the spell, “A one-way Sound Barrier, really nothing too fancy, just attaching a Message spell to transmit sound through, but it does have a few advantages. Namely in that it prevents overly loud noises from entering.” He clapped a hand on Travis’ back, “Ah, look at me, already too impatient to wait for next semester. Let me start by saying how absolutely delightful it was to see the ambassadors teeming with anger after Queen Claudette teased that even if you were secretly a twenty-four-year-old knight, that it would hardly lessen your displayed skill.”
Travis pulled his head back in surprise, “People think I’m twenty-four?”
He chuckled boisterously, “That was my reaction as well. I didn’t even know you were eighteen until the registrar’s office told me that you’d be going on a Fall Expedition this year. Was quite upsetting actually, I was hoping to include you and Mattius in a… oh! Speak of the duck.” His arms extended outward, then gestured as if opening a curtain to create a part in his spell formation, “Young Master Tatian, come join us! I have something to give you.”
Mattius, clearly uncomfortable from the sudden attention, scratched the back of his head as he entered the [Sound Barrier], “You… seem to be in a good mood today professor.”
“I certainly am.” The high elf beamed, “Not only did I get to make Maeralya eat her words, but that advice you gave me worked like a charm.”
“Advice?”
“The suggestion to send my son on a camping trip.” Professor Quinsandoral paused to chuckle to himself, “He finally found out my scheme this morning and stormed into my office, had a full-blown temper tantrum, and screamed obscenities at me for nearly half an hour. I think it was the longest conversation I’ve had with him in months.”
Travis and Mattius exchanged glances as their professor giggled to themself while reaching into a satchel, then pulled out a folder, “Here we are.” He handed it to Mattius, “This is your copy of exemption for the practical exam. You’ve more than demonstrated competency in this semester’s curriculum during the guided practices in the spell range. I do apologize by the way, this was supposed to have been submitted before schedules were delivered, but… one of the elven consulates had to throw a duck into the works after they found out that Travis had the gall to perform well in classes.”
Mattius turned to look at Travis, who gave an awkward shrug in return, prompting the Packer to shake their head, “I guess nine exams are better than ten.”
Quinsandoral grinned, “Expect to receive a similar gift during your written exam for Earth Spells, Ingotborn has been very impressed with your skills, particularly in how you’ve been exercising your affinity.”
“Oh, umm… thank you. Your advice to keep a journal has helped out greatly, there’s a lot of inconsistencies with my affinity compared to everyone else’s.”
“That reminds me, how did your meeting with the Archmagus go?”
Mattius scratched the back of his head, “It was… interesting… They asked me a bunch of strange questions, then gave me this…” he reached into one of his side pouches to pull out a…
a…
A void of nothingness?
I moved my focus in close to double-check, but the cube-shaped hole in the universe was still there.
Huh, that’s weird. I’ve seen plenty of mana-dead spaces before (Wind spells often generate them when creating vacuums), but never an object that was completely void of mana. Even the least mana dense rock has enough traces of Earth Mana to still look like it’s made of clear glass.
Professor Quinsandoral looked down at the object and rolled his eyes, “Oh, one of Avem’s puzzle boxes. I take it for your initiation you’ll be expected to solve it?”
Mattius nodded, “Yeah, they said I could take my time, but to preferably return it before I die of old age.”
Quinsandoral shook his head, “Well, keep that maddening thing away from me. Avem’s warned me multiple times not to help anyone directly with those. It’s supposed to be you and you alone who solves that.”
Mattius turned to Travis, “Actually, they said I could ask you for help, but you’ll have to follow the same rule. No asking any person, god, or object for help, but we are allowed to ask the terrain.”
Oh, that is just…
Travis looked up from the mana-less cube to give Mattius a grin, “Ok, I’ll tell my sword not to help.”
The professor and Mattius both looked down at me, then at each other, before Mattius whispered, “He’s been really stressed out the last couple of days. I don’t think we need to worry just yet.”
---
Voltsday, the 26th of Eighthmonth
Of course, the one exam that I can see with my mana sight, is Travis’ best subject…
Travis’ hands moved with the dexterous precision of a watchmaker as he worked on the tiny cubic artifice, finishing the assembly of the outer metal casing, checked to ensure the aperture in the front opened when turning the dial, that the foldable legs on the other three sides seamlessly closed, the d-ring on top could be flipped up with a fingernail, and that the mount on the bottom could securely clip onto his helmet.
Satisfied with his inspection, he began attuning to the item, raising the pulse-rate until the condensing array inside ramped up high enough to reach critical mass and form a tiny [Light Orb] inside the palm-sized cube.
Travis smiled, taking a minute to play with his mana-powered flashlight/lantern, then proudly walked to the front of the classroom to submit his artifice for examination. The professor did a basic function test, pulled a slab of slate from a nearby pile, then began writing down measurements using an Earth inscribed stylus.
Curious, I brought in my focus, and was able to see how the artifice pushed on the surface of the stone tile, creating a trench on the stylus’ side and a protrusion on the other. Professor Oresword eventually finished marking down the measurements for minimum mana frequency input, Travis’ military identification number, the current date, and then handed the flashlight back to Travis.
“Excellent work, you’re getting full marks.” They chuckled as they passed the slate tile to the assistant next to them, “Not going to lie, I was a little worried that you did a rush job with how fast you worked, but I’m guessing you must be versed in tinkering? Clockmaker’s assistant perhaps?”
“I’ve taken apart a windup clock before, but I’d say most of my skill comes secondhand from working with the woodworker of my village. He had a book on fancy wood joinery that he let me try out and did highly detailed wood burnings in his free time.”
The professor nodded along as the assistant next to them placed the carved tile in a small printing press, pulled one lever to roll a coat of ink over it, then placed a card inside before pressing down. The beardless assistant then gave the still wet card to Travis.
“Here you are. Take good care of that lamp, should last you quite a few years before the dust needs to get replaced.”
Travis stepped back, completely left a gasp, “Wait, I get to keep this?”
The entire table broke out into laughter. Well… all but Durinn, who was shifting uncomfortably in their seat, fiddling with a puzzle box in their hands, and looking highly anxious overall.
“Durinn, are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” Durinn snapped, “I’m not some youngling who can’t keep their fingers clean.”
Whoa, something’s clearly bothering the new artificer. Even the table was stunned by the reaction.
Professor Oresword gestured Travis to lean in so they could whisper, “They might not be in their right mind. Us bearded sometimes… forget about certain things when trying to meet a deadline.” They then took a piece of slate to carve out a picture of a shovel with one hand while holding up a finger to their lips with the other.
“Ooh…” / ‘Ooh…’ Travis and I both realized in unison.
“If they can burden the first eight hours, they’ll have a week or two… err… actually, they're braidless, so probably only a few days to get their affairs in order before the need to survey locations grows too strong. I’ll send them your sympathies once their head finally clears up.”
---
Travis
Burnsday, the 27th of Eighthmonth
Bridget and I sat down for an early supper, enjoying our brief respite between exams by discussing our future plans.
“My aunt is making me join the wards for a training camp.” Bridget complained, “I know I need the martial combat training, but I just know they’re going to spend both months trying to convince me to switch weapons.”
“You mean a family of commandos don’t approve of you brutally smashing in an opponent’s skull with your mace?” I teased.
She glowered, “No… it’s because Ahkazriel was a member of the Mortymer family.”
“Ahkazriel!” My grin dropped in exchange for a shocked expression, “The minor god of healing? Ally of Trebellia, the Chosen of Torbolt?”
Bridget picked up my grin, “That’s the one. Unfortunately, since I want to study medicine after graduation, I’m expected to follow family tradition and use a staff.”
“Do you have to make one out of bound bushtail antlers and quill-dragon spines like he did as well?”
“Thankfully, no. I am allowed to change things up. Adding a spear tip, making it out of metal, attaching a flail for example, but… it still has to be a ‘staff.’”
“Well, if you ever decide to give in to familial pressure, just let me know. I’ll lend you the blueprints for the one I carry around.”
Bridget started laughing, “I might just do that out of spite.” She kept chortling as we finished our food, then made a show of looking around before leaning in, “Have you… umm… talked to Adrian lately?”
Puzzled about the shift in conversation, I leaned in to join her, “Not really, I only see him during group study nowadays, that new girlfriend of his keeps squirreling him away.”
She rolled her eyes at me, “I was hoping that you could fill me in on why he’s been acting so distant lately. I asked him last week if he’d be interested in visiting my family’s estate over the break, but he… dodged the question, and didn’t answer.” She paused, looking downtrodden, “Do you think he’s intimidated by my family?”
“I’ll admit, it’s stressful having to suddenly adapt to being around nobles. I was fortunate enough to get eased into it for the most part, but every now and then, I still have moments where I can’t shake the strong feeling that I simply don’t belong here. Maybe he’s feeling the same way? I know I keep forgetting that you’re from an inner-ring family, an invitation to visit might be too big of a step.”
Bridget leaned back in her seat to mull over my words, giving Arc a chance to chime in, “I suggest telling her you’ll talk to Adrian, he’s got a lot of things weighing on him right now, and has been hesitant to talk to anyone. I bet he’ll open up if you have a private conversation with him.”
I gave Arc a friendly rub for the advice, then reached across the table to give Bridget a pat on her shoulder, “I’ll pull him aside for a talk before I leave.”
---
Steelsday, the 28th of Eighthmonth
“Drozuk,” Professor Lambertson spoke to my orkish friend as we turned in our exams, “I’ve got that list of books for you. The marked ones are the references I recommend you purchase; the others should be available at the library here.”
Drozuk thanked him as we stepped out of Mage Civics 1 and made our way to the cafeteria. Just one exam left.
I looked up at the tall orc, “Doing some reading while you’re on expedition?”
Drozuk grunted with annoyance as he looked down at his list, “Yeah, it’s for…” He waved his free hand around, hoping to grasp what he wanted to say, “Remember last week’s lesson on fortresses?”
“Yes, did something in particular bother you?”
He nodded, “Okay, so… for context, my dad and uncle raised me at Coldwater Spring Fortress, located right against the Western Mountains and close to a mountain pass to the Elven Kingdom. We moved there because my dad wanted more consistent work that didn’t require leaving for long periods, and because my uncle’s coven is headquartered there.”
“I’m surprised there’d be more work. Wouldn’t the roads have higher security to protect the trade route?”
“You’d think so, but the area off the mountain paths is both craggy and swampy, practically a breeding pen for monsters.” Drozuk placed the list into his side pouch, “So, back to my point, the army only protects the roads; they don’t venture out to eliminate monsters before they become a problem since that’s the job of hunters.” He let out a huff, “I used to have to sit in the fortress lodge, listening to the soldiers and spartans complain loudly about how the local hunters were slacking off, and I’d grow furious because my dad would be on bed rest from nearly dying earlier that week.”
I gave the big guy a pat on his shoulder as he wiped the snot off his face, “So when Professor Lambertsen explained last week that any local Jarl can request an army battalion to come assist in eradicating monsters…”
Drozuk drooped, “Yeah, request. As long as the fortress and villages aren’t breaking any laws, the Queen won’t send out a battalion without being asked, and any Jarl requesting aid would get voted out the next election cycle by the hunters and witches for ruining their potential bounties.”
“Really? But… you just said…”
He sighed, “I know… I don’t like it one bit. Especially now that I know why dissemination of magical knowledge is so restricted.”
I let out my own sigh, “Yeah, necromancers tend to ruin everything.”
Drozuk snorted, “Ha, not for you, that attack on your village has turned into a footnote for your life’s story.” He turned to look at me, “Speaking of, have there been other attacks? I’ve haven’t heard or read about any follow-up attacks on villages.”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Not sure, but… I’m probably not the best person to ask. I barely have the energy to read the school’s paper every week.”
“Don’t your inner-ring buddies keep you up to date?” he teased.
“No, they’re too busy gossiping about their school clubs.” I switched to a sarcastic tone, “Did you know that the captain of the Dark Drakes got caught cheating on his fiancée with the wicketrunner of the Copperdillos?”
Drozuk tilted his head in clear confusion, “Umm, what’s a wicketrunner?”
“The ball carrier in Ruggleball. Their job is to grab the ball after the bowlers roll it back to them, then take cover behind the batters and listen to the captain shout movement commands. If they manage to carry it all the way to the opposing team’s wicket and touch it with the ruggleball without getting hit by a pigskin, they automatically win the game.”
My friend shook his head as we got into line for supper, “Never mind, I can’t be bothered to care. I just got my practical exam for Water Spells on Woodsday, and then I’m finally done. How about you?”
“Just got my written exam for Water Spells left, and I’ll be heading there after I’m done eating.” I gave his arm a friendly nudge, “Nice not having to take any general education exams, isn’t it?”
Drozuk smirked with his toothy grin, “I’m going to walk directly to the tavern after my last test. How about you?”
A familiar voice called out before I could answer, making me turn around, and then down towards a pink-haired dwarf.
“Travis! I was hoping to find ya. Durinn and I are hosting a kegger in a couple of hours over at the burrow. Think you can stop by with that poleaxe of yours?”
“I got an exam in an hour, but I’ll be free afterwards. I take it Durinn’s feeling better?”
Thramreat chuckled, “Oh, you could say that…” They then pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote out directions, “Here ya go. I’ll save you a mug.”
Drozuk and I watched the dwarf walk towards the carryout counter to rejoin the group they came in with, then pick up a massive order of boxes requiring half a dozen people to carry.
I grinned, “Looks like I’ll be having fun tonight.”
Drozuk twisted back to me, “You’re insane. You know that, right?”
Taken aback, I stammered in surprise before finally asking, “Umm… no, I don’t. Is there something I should know?”
He shook his head at me, “Be easier for you to see it yourself. Just don’t eat any of the food, or drink from the punchbowl. Oh, and bring earplugs.”