Penny had half her body out the window, hand waving excitedly as she pointed at the massive walls in the distance. Zeek saw it too; Lem, the capital of Numera. Grey brick walls taller than ten men standing on each other’s shoulders, with shaded nooks scattered along for archers to hide in.
Sentries in chainmail and white tabards paced back and forth across the top, checking the distance and inspecting the crowds meandering towards an enormous gate. Lines of pedestrians gathered to speak with the guards, sacks and armfuls of goods held tepidly in the summer heat. A few carriages rode by unimpeded, as drivers waved badges to bypass the checkpoint.
Zeek had never seen so many people before; the population of Hake was smaller than the line outside. And the people varied wildly, many in burlap or linen, with dyes of every color and adornments fashioned into a myriad of symbols. For every walking stick, a young fighter’s sword dangled on another’s hip. For every light airy dress, another woman wore fitted chain armor.
Beggars lined each side of the road with their hands held out. Some had wooden signs scrawled with a story explaining their despondency. Livestock plodded behind farmers pulling rope leads, wagons stuffed to the brim with crates tottered precariously over the rocky dirt track that led to the city.
Zeek watched as Old John and the knights waved to the guard and led the caravan deeper inside. Most of the city wasn’t visible from the outside, with the round walls curving into the distance, stopping at a line of blue that Zeek figured was a large river.
The streets were better kept inside the walls, with cobblestone replacing dirt, but some of the more dilapidated alleys only had gravel. Lines of disjointed shacks clung to older, sturdier buildings, growing up like fungus around the city’s entrance.
The smells of meats, spices, smoke, and sweat filled the streets as a cacophony of sounds echoed in the small carriage. Murmuring conversations, yelling merchants, the incessant hammering of wood, the clang of metal on anvil, and the pattering of busy feet permeated the streets. In the distance a large fort with doubly thick walls perched on top of a hill. A cathedral loomed next to it with spires swirling towards the clouds and high, painted windows refracting a rainbow of colors.
No sooner had they passed the outer area than the shacks disappeared, replaced by shop signs and paned glass fronts. The homes became uniform, whitewashed facades and stone chimneys poking out like weeds on the barely visible skyline. Zeek lost count of how many plazas, fountains, and bazaars they passed. Assaulted by so many new sights and smells, he resolved himself to just stare out the window in shock.
The fort and cathedral grew larger as they neared the city center. Taking a sharp turn as they rode down the main street, they passed through a smaller gate, just large enough for two carriages to drive side by side. Inside was a campus of rectangular buildings made of red brick with geometric patterns carved into the walls, as if someone had taken a handful of basic shapes and tossed them on the ground to grow. The buildings were walled away from the city but were surrounded by lush gardens covered in blooming flowers, ancient trees, and lonesome ponds. Walking paths weaved throughout as figures wearing rust-colored robes wandered in pairs or in solitude.
Zeek felt the book vibrate but ignored it as the carriages stopped in front of a building near the walls. A metal sign hung next to the door, Mage Dormitory and Administration. Archi left his carriage and beckoned them to follow. He gave them a brief explanation of the building as they walked inside.
“Welcome to your home for the next three years. There are around one hundred to two hundred mages attending the academy at any time and they all live here, except faculty. Half the first floor is the administration, the other half is a dining hall and infirmary. You won’t have to worry about food or clothing, but anything outside these walls will cost your own money. The top two floors are the living quarters.”
He led them down a carpeted hall lined with wooden benches, suits of armor, and paintings of stern-looking old men as he continued. “You two came early in the recruitment season, classes won’t start for a few weeks. Plenty of time to explore the campus or city if you want. Just make sure you stay in uniform when you go outside. The rest of the buildings look similar except the library, it’s the one that’s shaped like a big stump. One building is classrooms, another is laboratories, the last is a barracks for the knights in training. You’re free to go where you please, just don’t enter anyone’s room or laboratory without permission.”
“Will we still see you?” Zeek asked.
Archi opened a door in the center of the hall and walked towards a counter. Zeek could see a handful of ink-blotted clerks furiously scribbling with their quills as they processed paperwork at their desks.
“Only when I’m dropping off new students. I may teach a class or two, but they haven’t told me yet. I live off campus in the faculty housing district. House number 18, if you two ever feel like dropping by,” he replied, taking a quill off the counter and beginning to fill out two sheets of paper. He had Zeek and Penny sign their names at the bottom and retrieved two rust-colored robes and a set of keys from a closet nearby.
“Looks like you two will be neighbors, and I got you both corner rooms. Early signer special!” he said cheerily as they climbed to the third floor. He showed them Zeek’s room first. It had a writing desk, a dresser, a four-post bed, and windows with plenty of natural light. Archi took a seat at the desk and motioned for them to sit down on the bed.
“This is the end of our trip together, but you two seem like good kids. Remember the advice I gave you: keep your heads down and find a good affinity. You’ll have extra time to start working on it while the other recruits filter in. The date of the opening ceremony is written here,“ Archi explained as he gave them both a sheet of paper. “If you have any questions before then, ask the administration or a librarian.” A few goodbyes later, Archi left them sitting in Zeek’s room. Penny moved to the desk, but her excitement from the city had dwindled. Her hands gripped her dress as she looked at the ground.
“What are you going to do now?” Zeek asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t we get changed into the uniforms and head downstairs for lunch? I’d like to look around today,” Zeek suggested. Penny nodded and they met a few minutes later in the hall. The robes fit awkwardly, but at least they were comfortable and light. He did think the shield and lightning bolt symbol was gaudy, but oh well. Penny, somehow, still managed to look good in them. Zeek rolled his eyes as she fidgeted with the wrinkles.
It was nearing midday as they arrived at the dining hall. It was big enough for dozens of people, and garish enough to match the hallway’s decor. Flowing red curtains hung beside each window and carved tables arranged in even lines filled the open space. Two doors at the other side led to a kitchen, where a few other students entered and exited with food trays. The hall wasn’t too busy yet, but there were groups of people chattering aimlessly as they sipped tea or snacked. A few loners hid in the shaded areas, raising their heads long enough to inhale a bite of food before returning to study.
Zeek and Penny were walking towards the kitchen when a group of young men sitting near a window spoke to them.
“Servant, bring us another pot of tea and another round of food,“ one boy commanded without turning. He was short and scrawny with long blonde hair, but his robe was clearly made of nicer fabric than Zeek’s and the symbol on his chest was carved from real gold.
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“I’m not a servant,“ Zeek replied as Penny elbowed him gently. The young man looked at him, slowly moving his eyes from Zeek’s head to toes before frowning. “Apologies, your robe looks nearly identical to the servants’.” The other two boys beside him chuckled while the young man blushed slightly, hiding his face from them. Zeek’s eye twitched and he bowed deeply.
“Right you are, my lord. Good eye, of course. I’ll be right back,” Zeek replied as Penny slowly backed up and sat down at a table they’d passed. The young man looked confused but put on a fake smile when his friends started patting him on the shoulder. Zeek hurried to the kitchen and surveyed the numerous offerings. Cakes, pastries, sandwiches of every kind, slabs of meat, cheese, and anything one could want waited on a long counter as chefs hurried back and forth to check on their products. Another area had milk, tea, water, and honey.
Zeek took a tray and began a careful selection. First were the drinks. He filled three goblets meant for wine with scalding hot tea fresh from the flame. Next was the food, and while the sandwiches did look delicious, a heavily frosted cake and a bit of pudding were better to serve the young man. The food was packed so densely on the tray the cake hung off the edge, and Zeek had to walk slowly to keep it all balanced.
The young men didn’t notice him as he returned to the hall. He danced around tables, picking up speed as he neared the group. He made sure to call out to them just as he got in range.
“My lord, your food is served,“ he said as he pretended to trip over a chair leg and pushed all the food onto the young man. Penny hid her face in her hands, peeking between her fingers as she watched.
The tea fell first and covered the young man’s robes in hot water. He yelled in panic as he felt the heat, just in time for the pudding and cake to land on his exposed head. The food was so heavy it knocked him off his chair and onto the floor. His two friends stared at Zeek, flabbergasted. The man rolled around groaning as he ripped off his robe and stood panting in his undergarments.
“Oh, my lord! I am so sorry. This poor servant is just so clumsy. Let me help you,” Zeek said sweetly as he grabbed a cloth off the table and patted the young man’s head. The young noble soon recovered and became enraged.
“You did that on purpose! What’s wrong with you? I didn’t do anything to deserve this!” he screamed as several other diners looked up to watch the commotion.
“Oh please, my lord, don’t whip me! Honest mistake, truly! I just get so nervous around my superiors,” Zeek quipped.
“Who are you?”
“Zeek.”
“I, Sirius Yenson, challenge you to a duel!” the young man screamed. Zeek’s face morphed into one of disgust as he looked at the red-faced Sirius. He put his hands on his hips and leaned forward.
“A duel? Are you kidding? All because you wouldn’t get off your lazy ass and get your own food? I refuse.” As Zeek replied, he felt the book vibrate. He didn’t even need to open it to know what it wanted. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as the boy called him a coward and cursed his name.
“Alright alright, stop nagging. What are the rules of a duel?” Zeek asked. Sirius was spitting as he yelled but Zeek hadn’t been listening to him.
“First blood wins. When I win, you’ll be my servant the rest of this year,” Sirius replied.
“What will I get if I win?”
“You won’t win, coward,“ Sirius sneered.
“So whatever I want?” Zeek barely held back a grin.
“Yes, whatever you want.” The other young men chuckled as Sirius smirked.
Turned out the smirk wasn’t all bravado, Zeek thought as he stood across from Sirius in a training arena behind the barracks. A few of the other diners sat in the stands, looking forward to some afternoon entertainment. Penny leaned against a building nearby with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Sirius wore another fine robe, smiling broadly as one of his underlings introduced him to the non-existent crowd.
“At the drop of my arm, the duel will commence between the peasant Zeek and the war mage candidate Sirius Yenson, Son of Earl Yenson, Archmage of Fire.” The crony clapped his hands excitedly, undeterred by the crowd’s lack of reaction. Zeek was curious about the title Archmage; the book mentioned a mana tier at that level, but he was doubtful the title held the same meaning here.
Zeek held back a grin, pretending to be nervous. He fidgeted with his robe and wrung his hands, shifting from foot to foot as he listened to the introduction. The excited young man kept getting annoyed as Zeek pretended to stretch his arms, even doing a few squats as he watched Sirius.
What Sirius didn’t know was Zeek had used mana vision before getting revenge on him earlier. In fact, Zeek had used mana vision from the moment he entered the academy. Not that he foresaw this happening, he was just curious what the levels of the mages here would be. The highest he saw was journeyman, about the same level as Archi. And those people were all older, making Zeek deduce they were faculty. Most shocking, though, was the way their mana appeared.
It was concentrated around their cores and arms.
He didn’t see a single other person who had mana flowing through their body like the book had taught him. Sirius was no exception. By Zeek’s estimation, Sirius was only at mana tier 2 and had a glow barely stronger than Penny’s. The same glow barely flowed up his arm, which meant he probably knew a spell or two.
Now Zeek recognized he couldn’t case any spells, but this was a wonderful opportunity to see one. If worse came to worst, he’d lose and head to the infirmary. Unbeknownst to Sirius, no matter what happened, Zeek wouldn’t be his servant. He’d just ignore him if he lost.
Who cares about honor?
Forbidden Lover One, Zeek’s nickname for the crony doing the introduction, stood in the middle of the arena with one arm raised. He dropped it and shouted “Start!” Sirius took a hand-sized stone tablet out of his pocket as Zeek watched him with mana vision.
The young noble clenched his jaw as he fed mana slowly into the rune. Zeek watched it curiously. The mana didn’t flow like his. It moved like tree sap, filling in the edges of the spell model and sticking to the sides. Strangely, the mana only bounced off the lines erratically, as if it was struggling…or angry? It took nearly a minute for Sirius to fill the model completely and produce an apple-sized fireball hovering above his palm. The spell model changed the flow and speed of the mana as it twisted around, making it behave differently as it exited the center.
“The first cast is mine. Now you’ll see why I’m a war mage candidate,” Sirius said as the fireball zipped towards Zeek. It was fast, only a bit slower than an arrow, but far more visible. Instinctively, Zeek shuffled to the side with mana strengthening as he easily dodged it. Forbidden Lover One yelled excitedly from the sidelines.
Zeek watched as Sirius fed more mana into the spell model. It turned out he only had to force his mana through once then hold it there, trickling the rest in each time he needed another fireball. Almost like he was just opening and closing a floodgate. The only difficulty was how fast he could generate them. A new fireball appeared just before the last one reached Zeek. It was fast, but not faster than Zeek empowered by strengthening.
Zeek kept his distance at first, sidestepping, ducking, or jumping over the projectiles. Sirius was furrowing his brows in frustration as the duel went on. Zeek wanted to see if there was a limit to what Sirius could do. The first minute a fireball came every other second, and Zeek worried if he could keep up. By the second minute it was every three to four seconds. As the minute ticked by, they were more and more spread out.
Sirius’s core dimmed. He was beginning to run low on mana and the fireballs only appeared every ten seconds or so. By Zeek’s estimation, Sirius couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Eventually he’d hit a balance where he had to wait for his mana to recuperate before casting again. Not that it wasn’t impressive; the young noble clearly took the fight seriously. He was covered in sweat and panting as he continually used the spell. And if Zeek was hit by one of those fireballs, it would scorch his skin horribly.
As the intervals between the spells increased, Zeek started taking steps forward. He didn’t race at Sirius, but moved cautiously to see his opponent’s reaction. Magic was still so new to him, he wasn’t sure if Sirius would get a second wind as he got in close range. Suddenly he noticed Sirius was stepping back, trying to keep his distance from Zeek. But every time he moved, the mana in the model trembled slightly and dimmed, delaying his cast further.
Zeek waited for Sirius to begin moving, then channeled more mana into his legs and sprinted forward. He probably overdid it, based on the gawking faces of some audience members, but he was moving at the speed of a horse when his fist impacted Sirius’s stomach. The young noble was picked off his feet and thrown several feet back, landing hard on the ground while rolling. Zeek sprinted over to him, fist raised, but stopped quickly as dust kicked up around him.
Sirius was curled up, groaning. The mana flickered out of the model as it fell to the ground. Forbidden Lovers One and Two ran to help their friend. Zeek cheekily asked if the duel was over as the two nodded and carried Sirius towards the infirmary. Zeek shook the pain out of his hand as he returned to Penny.
“We made our first friend, Penny!” he said and smiled.