Journal Entry #5
Potluck at the church was a struggle today. Everyone in the village had gathered, and anger kept swelling up inside me every time someone told a joke or smiled, forcing me to stew by myself, but that wasn’t the worst part.
Eliza, the most beautiful girl in the village, the one I hoped to dance with at the Fall Festival, approached my empty table with a steaming pan of hotdish. My anger washed away as she shared stories about her departed older brother that died when that plague came through half a calendar cycle ago, and I returned in kind with stories about Petter, but a new emotion began to creep into my soul as we moved onto other topics.
Guilt.
Had Petter never died, Eliza would have never given me a second glance, or grasp her hand with mine as we bonded over our shared experiences.
---
Travis
The Raycraft Estate was a sight to behold. While many of the large buildings I’ve been in had an obvious dwarven influence with their sturdy sloped walls, columns, and glass ceilings, this castle had a distinctive Lakelander feel. The stone brick walls were the same type used for my own house’s foundation, familiar steep pitched roofs ensured that snow couldn’t accumulate, and the wooden navy-blue bay windows dotting the walls broke up the oppressive feeling that fortress walls gave off. The small, rounded towers on the corners of the buildings and single large one were a departure from anything my village has, but I have noticed that many of the Lakeland style homes here in the capital have a single wooden turret, so maybe the trend simply hasn’t spread to us yet.
I must have gone slack-jawed as we entered through the gatehouse and into the front courtyard. Maple trees, raised flower beds, a fountain spewing water into a pond, and ivy-covered trellises refreshed the air with their pleasant scents. There was also a bustling covered patio out front, complete with barkeep serving drinks, making it look more like I was visiting an inn or pub instead of a person’s home.
A middle-aged man wearing an emerald tailcoat ensemble approached Ansel and I as we dismounted our horses, “Welcome home Young Master Ansel, did you and your guest have a safe and swift journey?”
“We did.” Ansel turned to me, “Travis, this is my personal butler Balthasar, if you want to know anything about the estate, he’s the one to ask.”
The butler gave me a quick bow, “A pleasure as always to greet one of Ansel’s friends. Should you require assistance during your visit, my services will be available to you.” He turned to Ansel, “Due to the influx of family members and guests this week, tonight’s supper will be in the Grand Hall. Your father is currently awaiting your arrival in the main branch’s private spell range and has asked me to encourage you to meet him right away.”
Ansel made a light chortle, “I’m surprised he wasn’t waiting outside to greet us.” He leaned towards me to gossip, “Dad wouldn’t stop babbling that night about how he now has all the pieces together for the project he’s been trying to get off the dry dock.” He shook his head in aggravation, “Of course, he still refuses to say what said project is…”
Balthasar grinned as a small group of valets approached to escort our horses to the stable, “He was showing some odd behavior earlier, greeting branch family members as they arrived and having his afternoon snack on the front patio for example, but your mother kindly reminded him that he should be spending his free time sharing his magical expertise and not acting like an impatient child on Solstice.”
Ansel, without looking, handed his bag to one of the valets that approached while we were listening, then returned his own grin, “Better not keep him waiting then.” He then gestured for the butler to lead the way, but before I could take my first step inside, one of the valets spoke up.
“Sir, would you like for me to carry your backpack inside?”
“Oh, umm… sure, I guess…” I awkwardly pressed the quick releases to let the kid pull it off my back.
My lack of familiarity must have been obvious to Ansel, since he smirked before turning to the valet holding my bag, “Place it in my room with mine for now.” He then gave my elbow a friendly nudge, “I just realized, is this the first inner-ring estate you’ve visited?”
“Yeah, and my first Lakelander one at that.” My head swiveled around as we stepped in to see the intricately carved wooden panels on the walls, oil paintings depicting knights in battle, and copper molding on the ceiling reflecting the candlelight. “This place is beautiful by the way, do all Lakelander estates have a similar look?”
“For the most part, yes.” Balthasar informed as we walked past dozens of people in the Grand Hallway. “Nearly all the original castles built for the founding noble families were designed by the same team of architects. Over the eras, the numerous building updates and complete rebuilds have brought more variety but just as often have caused design elements to become copied. The estate’s Stormwatch Tower for example, originally commissioned by Sir Michael after becoming inspired by elven architecture during his tenure as ambassador for the United Human Kingdoms, has influenced the creation of meditation chambers and spiraling staircases on the other noble estates.”
My impromptu tour guide kept speaking as we exited through a pair of double doors into the main inner courtyard, but I didn’t hear a word of it as my eyes took in a strangely familiar sight. It was like my entire village was squished down into a smaller area, or that our inn/tavern was multiplied in size by twelve dozen to accommodate a Fall Harvest Festival. Elderly relaxed in wooden reclining chairs on the enormous veranda in front of the Knights’ Apartments, adults leaned against the balconies idly chatting or sat playing games on the terrace, and dozens of children were gleefully playing in the enclosed park.
Homesickness swooped in like a hawk as I spotted a little boy reading a book underneath one of the trees, making my eyes well up as its claws sunk in deeply. The last few months had been a constant blur of sleeping, eating, and studying. Giving me little time to fully comprehend just how much things had permanently changed for me.
A hand set itself on my pauldron, and I turned to see Ansel’s worried face, “Travis, are you okay?”
I wiped my eyes, giving my face a quick massage to push aside the melancholy, “Yeah, I’m fine. Was just… shocked at the number of people. You’ve got an entire village in here.”
Ansel smiled at my obvious deflection, “It normally isn’t this crowded, but with Fall Expeditions kicking off in a few days, every single Raycraft family member is here.” He took in the crowd with his own eyes and pointed out a few knights who weren’t wearing the Raycraft crest on their tabards, “Since my family specializes in Lightning Mana, anyone born with a Fire or Wind affinity will often marry into an outer family or find a spouse that has the correct affinity to ensure their children will inherit a Lightning one, but some prefer to become hedge knights instead. My family does try to keep good relations with those who aren’t granted formal admittance into the Raycraft family, so a lot of my distant cousins are dropping off their sponsored wards for the upcoming training camp.”
My eyebrow raised at one of his off-hand statements, “You can control what affinity a person will inherit?”
“Somewhat, you need to know what affinity a parent has first to even push the odds in your favor. For example, my dad is a Lightning Mage, and my mom is a Fire Mage, it was a coinflip for my brother and I which affinity we’d inherit. If my mom married another Fire Mage instead, all of her kids would inherit her Fire Affinity, and if she married an Earth Mage, her kids would end up with Metal affinities.”
“Oh, it’s just a simple genotype inheritance then.”
I gave Arc’s pommel a rub as we continued walking, heading towards the featureless back wall of the courtyard, a little surprised he was being so quiet. Must be too many eyes on him.
A guarded ramp leading down greeted us by the wall, and Balthazar gave us a quick bow, “Enjoy your time in the training yard.”
Ansel nodded, “Thanks. Send a few wards to come collect our armor and weapons shortly before supper, I assume we’ll head directly there once it’s time.”
The butler acknowledged the order as Ansel gave my elbow a nudge and started grinning while we descended into the tunnel, “My great grandfather was extremely meticulous about safety. As a result, the only way to travel between the different training areas is by this underground maze of tunnels. Great for keeping yourself from being hit by a stray spell, but really annoying when you’re trying to find an open tumbleball court.”
“Tumbleball? What’s that?”
He gave me a shocked look, then shook his head as he led me up a ramp to look through a window into an enclosed space with a dozen Lakelanders shuffling about in the sand wearing boardshorts, “Tumbleball. You skin and tan the hide of a tumblepig, stuff it full of wool, then attempt to hit it just right so it ricochets off the walls into the opposing team’s basket. First team to thirteen points wins.”
We watched for a few minutes as the opposing teams employed a mix of mana reinforced hits or [Air Bolt] spells to volley the ball from side to side until one team pulled off a high-speed combo. A female player jumped up to intercept the ball, putting a huge amount of spin on it, and causing the ball to cling to the opposing team’s wall as it made a “U” around the pillar holding the basket. One of her male teammates then launched a [Wind Bolt] at it, hitting it just right to undo the spin, catching the opposing team off-guard just long enough to let the ball bounce off the back wall and into the basket.
Ansel and I laughed as the victorious teammates leaped past each other, and with a single swing of their outstretched arms, gave each other a high five followed by a butt slap. We then resumed our travel through the tunnels, past another pair of guards who greeted Ansel with bows, and finally walked up a ramp in time to hear loud cracks of lightning.
Ansel’s father stood before a dozen knights and mages, the strong features on his face he passed on to his son highlighted by a flashing Orb of Lightning, “Now, as tempting as it may be to keep this [Generator] spell active as you progress up the scale in mana frequency, I highly recommend against doing so. This spell is not a perfect container for the energy inside, and as a result, can either discharge into the nearest ground (that would be you in this instance) or simply fail to create a conduit with your [Lightning Bolt], making it draw its energy from your body instead. Remember, ‘Fire is energy, Wind is movement, and Lightning is transference.”
The teacher closely observed his students, making sure they nodded along in agreement, “Good. Any questions?” His face lit up with joy upon seeing Ansel and I, “Can be answered tomorrow. I have a son to publicly embarrass in front of his friend.”
The amused crowd watched a reluctant Ansel get hugged by his dad, then began to filter out of the spell range, though a few paused to give me a double take before getting shoved down the ramp with the others.
“Travis,” Ansel’s dad… William, extended a hand for me to shake, “I never got the chance to properly thank you for bribing me that night. I’ll admit I’m a bit peeved that I need to wait another two months to start my mothballed project so my lead artificer can get lucky, but I’ll take what I can get at this point.”
I raised my eyebrow at his teasing, “And what exactly is this project? I recall you going on a tirade about how important cost effectiveness was for approving the production of an artifice, but then ran off immediately after Durinn showed off their personal vanity project.”
William let out a nervous chuckle, “Sorry, but the entire thing is top secret. I haven’t even told Durinn what we’re making yet.” He then started grinning as he looked over my shoulder, “Not to come off as rude… but can I?”
I rolled my eyes and detached my poleaxe from my back, handing it to the grown man bouncing on his heels like an excited dwarf, “Alright, have at it, and yes, you can attune to it.”
Ansel and I stifled our laughter as his dad made a quick grunt, then began swinging it around and occasionally casting a Bolt spell down range. We stood there for a while watching the child at heart play with his new toy, only stopping to say hello to Ansel’s mother and grandfather when they walked up the ramp. My bout of homesickness returned as I watched Ansel’s face grow beet red after his mother kissed his cheek and I shook hands with his grandpa. I’m not exactly sure why, his mother with her deep red hair and matching fiery exuberance was the complete opposite of my own mom’s calm and steady attitude, and the few memories of my only living grandparent before they passed away were hazy at best.
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I let Ansel catch up with his mother after the initial introductions were made and joined his father and grandfather to share how I went about constructing my weapon.
“You forged the steel and hammered it yourself?” The old man, Duncan, gave an approving nod, “Smart lad, intimate knowledge of its makeup and structure will make carving mana channels much faster and improve your connection once they’ve been forged.”
William handed my poleaxe back to me, only showing slight hesitation, then gave his whole body a quick shake, “Ugh… that thing is dense with mana, like swallowing a brick. On the downstream, your enchantments will stick like sap on bark, though you’re definitely going to need to carve some mana channels into it if you want to swap enchantments on the fly in the future.”
A tiny groan escaped me, having a god, a rooftop full of drunken dwarves, and now a senior mage all repeat the same thing wouldn’t have been so bad if not for the fact that the process to do so doesn’t get covered until the end of Artifice 3. A class I won’t take until next summer.
Duncan gave my back a comforting pat, “No need to worry about problems years down the line just yet, focus on increasing your mana levels and magical knowledge for now. There’s no benefit in you starting the process until your body naturally creates its own set of mature mana channels anyways.”
William nodded along, although suddenly stopped mid-nod to peer directly at Arc, making my chest clench in sudden fear, “Oh, that sword of yours is going to be a problem though…”
I instinctively grasped onto Arc, trying to remain calm, but my voice betrayed me, “Wwwhy, is that?”
The two men shared a look before the elderly one started chuckling, “Have you tried using mana reinforcement while fully attuned to your poleaxe?”
Huh? I guess I technically haven’t bothered to try since I couldn’t use it in the arena. What are they getting at?
The older man gestured for me to give it a go, so I decided to humor them as I began the slow process of attuning to my poleaxe. Ansel and his mom approached the circle just as I finished, and I walked down towards the nearest target dummy to give it a try.
My arms raised up my weapon, attunement making it feel like half its usual weight, and took a quick breath before attacking. The mana in my body ramped up in a wave, starting at my feet, moving into my hips and core as they shifted, then ramped up in my back and arms before… slamming into an abrupt halt as the wave hit my hands, instantly forcing my synchronization with my poleaxe to fail.
The sudden increase in perceived weight completely threw off my swing, making me not only miss the target, but nearly fall over from the sudden lack of coordination. Ansel’s mother shook her head at the old men as they let out deep bellied laughs, leaving Ansel himself looking very confused.
“What happened?”
William set a hand on his son, “This boy, is why that skull dragon spear I had commissioned for you is staying in the armory until you graduate.”
I looked down at my poleaxe, trying to puzzle out why the weapon I crafted with my own hands suddenly failed me, “But… I’ve attuned to other things while using mana reinforcement… and those have never…”
Ansel’s mother was kind enough to explain, “Your body’s immature mana channels aren’t large enough to accommodate such a densely packed object. Smaller, less mana dense items, will be much easier to stay attuned to at your current stage.”
A deep sigh escaped me as everything finally clicked into place. Next semester (when we begin learning weapon enchantments), I won’t be able to use my poleaxe since any enchantments I cast on it will immediately break in combat. And since Arc is made of adamantium, I can’t attune to him either to practice the spells.
I started walking back up to the group, my head lowered in defeat. I’ll have to requisition a regular sword from the quartermaster when I get back from my expedition, forcing Arc to remain in my dorm room or armory most of the day.
My hand reached down to give Arc an apologetic rub, “Sorry bud, sounds like I’ll need to use a regular sword.”
It’s ok bud, I understand.
A hand set on my shoulder, making me look up and see Ansel’s grandfather narrow his eyes at me, “Hmm… I have a thought. Take off that arming jacket. Let me get a better look at you first.”
He directed Ansel to help me remove my armor, allowing me to strip off my wood fiber garments down to my waist.
“Hmm,” the old man’s eyes lit up as he inspected my bare chest, “that might work. You’re about to go on a Fall Expedition right?” He paused to let me nod my head, “Perfect, your mana level is already high enough to start stressing it into forming proper channels. Now, I’m no expert on Elementalist Mages, but for Lightning Mages, you can speed up the development of your mana channels by maintaining different basic enchantments on each extremity for long periods of time. A common one I’ll have our family members do is [Fire Edge] in one hand and [Wind Shield] in the other. You’ll need to consume a lot of mana rich food to keep your body from wearing out as your internal mana shifts into neat little rows inside, but you’ll be on a feeding frenzy anyways during your expedition, so you might as well take advantage.”
Hope swelled up in my chest, “I already have been practicing [Earth Cleat], and have the spell diagram for [Water Bracer]. Should I ask my professors for additional spells before leaving?”
William’s face scrunched up in thought, “Hmm, you’re not going to have much time to learn a bunch of new spells… let’s see… assuming the strategy is to maintain four different elemental enchantments at once… oh! For your head, you can simply attach your dust filter to your helmet and use [Message] to speak. That should only take an afternoon to get the hang of.”
I nodded along excitedly, “I can already do that. That just leaves a Fire enchantment.”
Ansel’s grandfather smiled at me, “For that, you can just maintain a strip of Fire Mana down your spine instead of enchanting a proper [Fire Aura]. It won’t be long till the autumn air starts chilling you, and you’ll most likely be camping outside for weeks at a time.”
Feeling extremely grateful for their guidance, I bowed in respect towards the senior mages, “Thank you for the advice. I will put it to great use this fall.”
The two smiled back at me as a pair of young wards arrived in the private spell range, announcing supper will be served soon, and to collect mine and Ansel’s armor and weapons.
---
Supper in the Grand Hall was not what I’d come to expect from an inner-ring noble family. For starters, instead of being served, we were initially forced to wait outside the doors to the hall (Ansel’s immediate family and their guests of course were first in line), and were only allowed to enter once the dinner bell rung and doors opened. Inside was a scene straight out of a dream. Four long rows of wooden tables and benches were piled high with food. Steaming roasts of chicken, ham, beef, and mutton acted as centerpieces. Bowls of mixed fruit, freshly baked bread rolls, and vegetables interspaced between them. And placed on top each table setting was a cast iron pot.
My stomach screamed and rattled against its cage of abdominal muscles once the savory scents flooded into my nostrils, and the long walk down to the opposite side of the hall to sit at the elevated head table was straight up torture. It took every last ounce of willpower to not immediately begin shoveling food into my mouth as I sat down between Ansel and his grandfather Duncan, especially once I discovered what the main course was.
Cottage bacon topped with Parmesan hash browns, scrambled eggs, rosemary onion gravy, sour cream, and green onions. A traditional breakfast bowl that would be delivered out to the fields in the spring and fall, giving farmers not only a nice hot meal, but allowing them to save a trip traveling back to the farmhouse. When I turned fifteen, delivering these iron crockpots was one of my most favorite tasks, mainly because I’d often get an extra one to carry out for myself, but they were handy for practicing magic with. Running with a cauldron in each hand was more strenuous than the simple jogs I went on with Lancel around the village, and reheating the pots by hovering [Fire Orbs] underneath them was a challenge to master.
Ansel demonstrated to me how the contoured designs on the cast-iron pot were more than just fancy decorations, they doubled as guidelines for a basic warming enchantment. I looked around the hall as everyone sat down and began to enchant their bowls as well, still a bit confused about the humble meal preparation for the main course. Sure, all the food inside was rich with mana, but shouldn’t inner-ring nobles have a posher presentation? I still remember it being a huge ordeal to get my food choices agreed to by the caterer at my academy induction party.
I debated asking Ansel, but before I could build up the courage to ask, a singer’s voice rang throughout the hall. Every single Raycraft family member joined in with their voices as they sung what I assume was their family’s unique prayer to Apheros and Adamanrion. The tune was familiar, but not quite the same as one my family or the village would sing before eating, and the lyrics about the sky coveting the shiny armor of the singer was certainly something new. Once the family finished singing, everyone began to eat in silence, much to my enjoyment.
It didn’t take long for Ansel and me to clean out our bowls. I then followed along as he wordlessly instructed me to gather regular food from the table to add to our pots, then cover the contents with the lid. Ansel smiled at me as we waited for everyone else at the table to do the same. A few minutes later, a bell rang, prompting every Raycraft to sing a quick follow-up verse, and then begin merrily talking to each other while our bowls began to warm up the food.
“Okay, I think I’m lost now.” I admitted to Ansel and his grandfather.
Duncan gave me a kind smile, “We’ll start the prayer for our second course once our food has reheated, then repeat the process two more times after that.” He nudged my elbow, “Hope that singing voice of yours is as good as that shadow show proclaims, it’s traditional to have guests sing the prayers for the follow-up rounds.”
I did indeed get asked. It wasn’t too terrifying, mainly since I had the foresight to check if the prayer my family often sung was appropriate, and by the time I finished eating my fourth helping of food, my stomach was bloated with deep satisfaction.
---
“Okay, I rolled a twelve for my evasion roll,” I peered at the stat block for the thunderhawk, “so that’s only two d8’s of reduced damage from your Watcher’s Ice Arrow spell.” I rolled the dice and cursed, a four and a zero, Ansel was going to get eight bonus points of damage for his attack. Sure enough, he rolled an eleven on his damage die, bringing his grand total to eighteen points of damage, two more than my thunderhawk had for remaining hit points.
“By the gods and God, you two are a pair of basement-dwelling nerds!” Arc groaned in my ear as I congratulated Ansel on his win. Now that it was just Ansel and I in his room, Arc was back to his usual inane commentary. I’ll have to ask him what a nerd is later, I don’t recognize that word.
Ansel grinned as we placed the figurines back on his shelves, “You did great for a first time, nearly lost three of my units after your last strafing run,” he grumbled the next bit, “and didn’t spend six minutes on your round deciding what to do.”
I chuckled as I placed the thunderhawk between his icefang wolf and thunderhoof bison, taking a moment to admire the ferocious poses on the hand-painted Elemental Eight greater monsters.
“The monster field guide does not do these things justice.”
“Ugh, I know,” Ansel groaned in sympathy, “the black and white reference pictures are purely anatomical, they don’t show them in motion.” He pulled out a thick book to hand to me, “I wish they’d use the images from this painter’s guide. It includes not just the common color variations for each monster, but also pictures of them attacking, resting, and standing next to an average human for scale.”
I idly opened the book to a random page, impressed by the full color images of knee-tall rocktail beavers swinging their tails around to smash rocks into pieces. None of the books I had growing up had such detailed prints inside, usually only a second color to offset the dull black and white line art. I turned the page, wincing at how sunbeavers came up to a person’s shoulder, apparently could spit lava out of their mouths, swim through underground magma flows, and also blind nearby opponents by slamming its tail against the ground.
“Oh, maybe you’d know, is there a monster species capable of using both Light and Shadow mana in combat? When I researched the creation of my sword, I was told that the bones of such a monster were used to create it.”
Ansel pondered while looking over his various figurines, before his eyes lit up, “None that are ‘officially’ in the monster registry.” He excitedly waved for me to follow him out of the parlor and into his bedroom where he started perusing different cryptozoology books.
While I waited, I took the opportunity to look at the different paintings he had up on his wall, hoping to get inspired for tomorrow, but his choice in artwork wasn’t… typical. One painting had a horned monster with spikes down its spine, tusks jutting out from its ox-like jaw, and cloven hooves kicking up ash in a burnt forest. Another was of some kind of fish monster, with an oval-shaped body, triangular tail fin, two eyestalks, and a weird looking proboscis that ended in a beak-like mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. And finally, there was a painting of a man leaping from a high tree branch, but upon closer inspection, he had multiple feline features, most notably a pair of triangular cat ears atop his head.
None of these were real monsters.
“The cat-man of the Cloudy Rainforest… I think he’s my favorite. There hasn't been a lot of sightings of him lately, so he might be dead now, but there’s tons of stories about him saving groups of hunters.”
“Are you sure he’s not just a mutated human?”
“Or a furry?”
Ansel shook his head, “No, what makes something a cryptid is how they break the established norms. For example, a bullcock can only live for three to five years before the different body parts begin to fight for dominance, but the catman has sightings stretching out over multiple calendar cycles. Even a strong-willed person will go insane over time and often commit suicide before monster flesh fully consumes their body to propagate. My hypothesis is that he was a sapient species that washed ashore from a different continent.”
He held up the book he was searching for to bring us back on topic, “This… unholy creature keeps evading us at every turn. It’ll dive into the murky water, coating itself in Shadow, disappearing for hours sometimes, then suddenly appear out of nowhere, attempting to inject venom into our ankles with its spurs. That’s right, venom! Eleanor has been moaning in pain for hours now, and with James still blind from a bright flash it created earlier, I worry we won’t make it out of this gully alive. Why in the name of The Hooded One does it keep harassing us? Was it because we found its nest of eggs?”
“Hmm, that’s not much to go off…”
I agreed with Arc, spurs were a common weapon amongst bird-type monsters, “Were there other entries?”
Ansel shook his head, “Afraid not, this was one of the few remaining pages from a damaged journal found on a team of dead hunters. There might be other monsters, that one was the only one I could think of at the top of my head, but…” he let out a deep yawn, “I’ll wait till tomorrow. You’re welcome to extend your stay past breakfast if you want by the way. Though, fair warning, I caught grandpa playing matchmaker in his head during supper, so you might get roped into a blind date if you’re not careful.”
I started giggling at the irony, “Sorry, but I need to get back to campus right away in the morning. I’ve already made plans to go out on a date.”
“Date! What date? When did this happen!”
My giggling turned into full-blown laughter, not just from Arc’s reaction, but Ansel’s shocked face as well.
“With…” his voiced cracked as he forced himself to speak, “with Seleyna?”
“Seleyna? No, I’m going on one with Caldia Hopkins. Though, ‘date’ is probably too strong a word, we’re not courting or anything, just… uh, getting to know each other better, and uh…” I nervously scratched the back of my head. Why am I suddenly sweating so much?
Ansel leaked out a sigh before clapping my shoulder with a big smile, “Sounds like you got a big day tomorrow. Thanks again for visiting Travis, I had a lot of fun.”
“Same here.” I returned the gesture with a shoulder pat of my own, “I’m really annoyed that I’m about to leave for two months. We’ll have to catch up when I get back.”