Calamacy Salaria

I lay there blinking in the twilight. The memory still pulsing in my head. The smooth burning sensation of the mana coursing through my body. The moment that the summon reacts to the call and all the mana that had been sitting in the body is pulled out, before the summons power rushes back in. The mana changed, tinted by the influence of the summon, bringing about a sense of untold power and urgency. A sense of violence.

I shudder again, recalling that primal feeling of taking root in my core when the summon had come through. That feeling of wanting to lash out and take what is mine. Regardless of the consequences. But alas, no matter how many times I’ve tried to call out to my summon, it hasn’t responded. Over the past 11 years the only thing that has changed is the bond itself. Over the years the bond has grown thicker and thicker. It was no longer the slim thread that felt like one tug too hard and it would snap. But now it was a rope, about the size of my thumb. Solid and intertwined. At the same time I’ve felt as if my mana is stagnant. That no matter how I try to expand and use the power within me, it won’t grow. It still remains at the level it was when I had first created the bond.

I can’t help but feeling frustrated at that. Most summoners at this age have already established two bonds and are working their way towards their third. Then again, generally the first two bonds are to low-class creatures that are used to help with more menial tasks. My summon is definitely several orders of magnitude stronger, and would probably never agree to do menial tasks. Not that that matters all that much when I can’t even summon it.

A sigh escapes my lips as I cover my face with one of my arms. I try to go back to sleep again, but as soon as I feel myself drifting off to sleep I hear the morning chime ring across the city. Sighing another time, I roll out of bed. I take a few moments to do some basic stretches, while I observe the small room which I am fortunate enough to have to myself. In front of me is a small desk cluttered with papers and various plants. A reminder that I need to finish the alchemy homework that is due next week for the Academy. Above the desk are two wooden shelves. They are cluttered with various trinkets that I have collected over the years. The main one that catches my eye is a small medallion leaning against a roughly carved salamander. The medallion is the one that my mother used to wear. It is one of the few items that I was allowed to keep when the Royalty took my family’s estate. Not that there was much left to keep in the first place.

After another sigh escapes I continue my observation of the room. To the right of the desk is the outside wall. A window being the only thing that breaks up the wooden siding. I turn around for a moment to observe my bed. And the shelf above it. The shelf is in the same state as the desk is. Filled with miscellaneous items that I either bought or were provided to me at the academy. Most of which I will probably never use again as I am unable to use few if any other magicks with my meager mana pool. I continue my turn to look at the last part of my room. This is where my meager closet is. It holds the few sets of clothes that I have been able to buy over the past years. All of which is red. Why do I only have red clothes one might ask? It’s because of my rank.

Every individual that is a denizen of the Royalties must where the color that symbolizes their rank. For example the individuals that are of the lowest rank where gray, and their title is Ceorn. The ranks then go Dralfey who wear indigo, Whasshi with blue, Tlassel with yellow, Graldur with orange, Kassari with green, Dolveran with violet, Nelselph with white, and at the top of the chain which is supposedly a mythical rank, Calamacy, who have to wear red. Now the ranks are generally determined via one’s magical ability. For an arcane spellcaster that would generally be the number of higher tier spells that one can cast. An alchemist would be ranked through the creations and or potions that they could consistently create. An Internal user would be ranked on how strong there aura is, and their ability to manipulate their aura around their bodies. A summoner on the other hand is normally ranked by the number of summons they can summon and the level of each summon. My case being slightly different because I was solely ranked on the level of my summon. My actual ability would not be enough to even reach a Dralfey.

I reach out to the red clothes folded in the closet and grab a faded red tunic along with a darker red skirt. On top of those I layer a red robe, with that I am ready begin my day. Fortunately today is one of the days of rest given every week. I head downstairs leaving the communal “dormitories” where I reside. These “dormitories” barely live up to that term as they are simple buildings two stories tall. The second story being the living quarters while the first floor is completely open to the outside with various table set up and an open kitchen located on one end.

At this point in the morning as I descend the stairway, a faint breeze rustles my skirts and wafts the smell of breakfast to my nose.

“It must be Dralfey Serac’s turn to cook today.” I think to myself. His cooking left much to be desired in terms of the appetite department. I hurry down the stairwell quicker and move across to the kitchen. The Dralfey is currently attempting to fry something at one of the stoves. His large bulky from fills up most of the kitchen space and blocks my view of the stove itself. Since his back is turned I quickly snatch a fruit from one of the bowls and am almost away before I hear Serac’s familiar rumble.

“Calamacy-vim”

I turn momentarily trying not to break my stride, “Well met, Dralfey Serac.”

His voice calls out as I step out from under the dormitories, “Will you be partaking in food today Calamacy-vim?”

I call out to him as I walk away, “Not today Serac-fa, there are errands that I must attend to.”

I heard across some of the open grounds of the academy, toward the gates. There are already a few people up and about and I can smell the smell of other dormitories cooks preparing breakfast as I continue to walk. It is a ten minute journey until I finally reach the gates. It being a day of rest, the gates are not yet open. I will probably have to wait for the mid hour chime to ring before they will be open. I find shelter next to one of the great trees growing near the gate and sit down to wait.

As I wait I get to see the sun finally peak over the horizon. Most of the academy with its various towers and learning halls become shadowy silhouettes against the morning sky. A sense of peace fills me momentarily as I enjoy the view of my home. At least my home since the second incident with my summon.

Thinking about my summon snaps me out of reverie. Seeing that there is no better time than the present, I focus on the bond and pour my meager mana reserve into it. The bond seems to greedily suck it up, draining me almost instantly. I maintain my focus trying to determine if there is any response. But after a few moments of nothing, I pull back my focus and return to my surroundings. “Another day with yet no response.” I think to myself.

At this point I start to see the gatekeeper making his way down the main path. He slowly moves down the path, leaning heavily on his walking stick. He is an old man. Old enough that all his hair is a limp gray, and his skin seems to hang off his very bones. His very faded orange robes beginning to match his hair. I stand up and smooth out my skirt as I call out to him.

“Graldur Baal!”

He looks up with a snap of his head. His eyes find me almost instantly. He stares at me for a few seconds, before continuing up the path.

“Salaria-vim, it is unusual to see you up and about so early, especially on a day of rest.” He says as I join him for the rest of his walk to the guardhouse.

“Ah well, while that may normally be true, Baal-fa, I have some errands I need to run this morning, besides when was the last time you actually took a day of rest?” I ask as we pull up to the gate.

“A day of rest, please. You know this bag of bones can’t have a day of rest, else who would open the gates?” He says. He stops before the gates and starts muttering some incantations. Raising both arms up his mana starts to flow out of him and light up the runes inscribed into the metal itself. After a few moments the runes fade, and then the gates slowly start to open inward revealing Lothelen as it is framed by the morning light.

I wave goodbye to Baal as I step out into the city. He waves back absentmindedly as he heads toward the gatehouse set outside the actual gates.

I make my way through the light morning traffic to the market district. The closer I get to the district the more the crowds start to grow. I see mostly a mix of Ceorn with more than a few Dralfey perusing the goods among the morning merchants. The market itself is a two story structure with most of the produce and foodstuffs being on the second floor with most of the other household items and foreign items being traded on the first floor or in the enclosed plaza at the center of the marketplace. My goal this morning happens to be a small stall located on the edge between the plaza and the building itself. Arriving before the stall I see the familiar face of the Tlassel Fringer. He’s an older man his hands worn and callused from the craft that he practices. His craft being an crystal crafter. His small stall sports two shelves filled to the brim with all the various mana crystals he has either crafted himself or found during his journeys.

As I approach he is bent over a small mana forge. I watch as his face twists in concentration as he pours his mana into the small set of crystals that he is nurturing. Ever so slowly the crystals begin to grow absorbing more and more of the mana that he inputting several beads of sweat go across his brow as his mana begins to fade. After several moments there is no longer any more mana being channeled and the crystals have all grown about one to two inches. With a satisfied smile Fringer wipes off his forward with one of the sleeves of the faded yellow tunic he is wearing. It is then that he registers my presence. A scowl quickly replaces his smile as he barks out.

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“Aren’t you youngsters supposed to be asleep this early in the morning?”

I reply with a grin, “Not this particular youngster. Besides not everyone is as lazy as that assistant you have.”

His scowl only deepens at the mention of his assistant, “Ai, what will I ever do with that boy, he’s a Whasshi for the Throne’s sake. Yet he has yet to act like he actually deserves that title,” he says, before turning his piercing brown eyes into myself, “so I can only assume there is one thing that would bring you here this morning Calamacy-vim.”

“Indeed Fringer-fa,” I reply, “You said you would have that crystal fully charged by this morning, and it’s the morning.”

He stares at me a moment longer, before reaching into a wooden box next to the mana forge. He pulls out a hexagonal crystal a deep yellow color. Placing it on the table he then gestures with his hand for me to keep up my side of the bargain. I reach into the bag that I am carrying by my side and pull out a small stack of papers and a worn looking book. Even before I can put the papers on the table he has snatched them out of hand and is hungrily pouring over them. I smile at his haste, and instead take the crystal and place it in my bag, leaving the book on the table

I say to him, “That is the last of the book transcribed. I hope it helps.”

He nods distractedly and waves me off with his hand. I make my way away from his stall and wander up to the second floor. Up there a variety of smells overtake my nose. Including the smells from a food stall which has decided to remind that I only had a small fruit for breakfast. My stomach growling in appreciation of the smells I make my way over to find that the small counter is already full of patrons, with several others waiting for a chance to eat. I move to get in line, but the several Coern notice my presence and move out of the way, giving a small bow. I try to hide my frustration and motion them back into their place but they are already moving behind me. Not wanting to make a scene I reluctantly step forward to the front of line, but a Dralfey sitting at the counter has already stood up and motions for me to take her seat. Once again I try to refuse the offered seat, but I can only put up a token resistance before the other patrons take note of the Dralfey’s actions and they quickly move to stand up to offer their own seats.

With a sigh I accept the Dralfey’s seat and with a hand motion indicate that the other patrons should retake their seats.

The cook behind the counter, her blue robe denoting her as a Whasshi, gives me a short bow before placing saying, “Thank you for visiting my humble stall, Calamacy-vim. How may I be or service?”

“Please Whasshi-fe, I would like one of the breakfast plates that you are serving.” I say.

She bows slightly before turning back to her stove. With practiced deft motions she goes about assembling another plate. I try and get myself to simmer back down, but it is a little difficult because of the distance that several of the patrons are trying to make even as they are sitting on their stools. Not to mention several of the whispers from the individual in the lines. Normally I can avoid most of this and tune out most of the whispers by getting my own booth or just informing those around me to not treat me differently. But the latter method only works with those that I interact with on a more regular basis, while this particular doesn’t quite have another booth to offer to its clients.

“I did ask for this,” I think, “It is frustrating though how people distance themselves, almost as if I’m carrying some type of dangerous contagious substance that would infect them if they were to get within several feet of me.” I heave another mental sigh. For I know that the people are just trying to be differential like they were taught. “Why can’t more people be like Altia, or that Prior ‘Gramps.’ Speaking of Altia I hope that she likes the gift I got her.”

I am brought out of my musings by the Whasshi cook placing a plate of the food in front of me. It mainly consists of several scoops of shredded potatoes that have been blended with eggs and some vegetables. Each one pressed flat and fried on a skillet. It tasted as good as it smelt and was gone within moments of the plate being put in front of me. As I finished my meal I slipped some coins under the plate without the cook seeing. Standing up I moved to pay for the meal, but was quickly stopped by the cook as she started refusing to take money from one such as myself. It was an old argument and one that had almost become ritualistic for me. Almost everywhere I went especially in the common parts of the town it was always a fight to get the storekeepers to accept my money. I had learned over the years how to either make trades for items or to find another way to leave the money at the stall. Even though Altia has criticized me in the past for not taking advantage of the fact that I essentially don’t have to pay for anything, that still didn’t mean that I was going to do it. I manage to leave the stall before the cook discovers the money under the plate. With a small smile of triumph I head toward the nobles district.

Compared to where the academy lies, the nobles district is over an hour walk away. The academy lies in the southwest of the city. While the nobles district is in the north with the cliffs that house the Palace of the Royalty. As I begin my walk I look up toward the Palace where it seems to sit, looming over the whole city a constant reminder of whom the true rulers are. For me the Palace represents two things. One, it is where that Prior ‘Gramps’ resides, the man who is technically my benefactor. Technically because outside of arranging for me to stay at the academy, he remains completely uninvolved in the rest of my life. Two, it acts as a good reference point to guide oneself around the city. Which is what I’m currently using it for.

The walk was uneventful up until I got to the main boulevard that runs east to west. This particular street carries much of the traffic flow of the city, whether that be from individuals trying to get across the city or merchants and foreign diplomats trying to enter or exit the city. When I approached the street I noticed that it seemed to be overflowing more than usual. A little surprising that this a day of rest. So surely there must be some sort of event going on, at least the preparations for such a thing. In any case I tried to scope out what would be the best way to get across the street without getting run over by the multitude or carts and carriages traversing back and forth.

Seeing an opportunity arrive in the form of a cluster of monks from the Church of the Resplendent Light, I seized upon the opportunity to cut in behind the monks and then scramble the rest of the way once a gap appeared among the carriages going the other way. Arriving on the other side I breath out a of sigh of relief as I notice out of the corner of my eye a carriage pull up to the curb right beside me. I turn my head to look at the carriage as I hear a deep bass voice ring out from inside the carriage.

“Greetings Calamacy-vim.” The voice says as its owner steps out of the carriage, “I couldn’t help but notice vim attempting to cross the street. I had hoped that maybe I could offer some assistance with the matter, but by the time I grew close enough to hail vim, vim had already seized the opportunity and crossed the boulevard. A rather harrowing sight to behold I’m afraid. So I felt that perhaps I should lend vim my carriage so that vim can complete her journey without putting herself in harm’s way.” By the time he was done talking he had gotten completely out of the carriage and was standing to the side. He gave a short bow as he finished and then stood there making no other motion.

Almost immediately when I had heard his voice I had recognized who this individual was. Standing at well over 6 feet and weighing in at quite possibly 250 pounds, the current Chancellor to the Ivy Throne is an imposing man. The sheer bulk on his frame in combination with the sharp look from his dark green eyes, only enhanced the feeling of power one associated with the green robe of a Kassari. He had a shock of graying hair that came down to his shoulders. But perhaps the most alarming feature would be his voice. That deep bass that he spoke with was so compelling and clear that one couldn’t help but focus on him when he spoke. I had dealt with him a few times over the years. Every time I did he was always the model of perfection and civility yet I could feel that there was more going on behind the surface. A fact that was accentuated even now by the sharp piercing gaze that he was giving me.

Giving him a short nod of my head I say, “Kassari Vandel, the offer that fa had given me leaves me humbled, but alas I must refuse. I am quite enjoying walking out among the city and moving through the city is not the great risk that you are presuming. Now I don’t wish to use up anymore of fa’s valuable time so I shall be on my way.” I quickly leave him there standing next to his carriage, his sharp gaze still felt on my back as I walk away.

Kassari Vandel

“This child,” I mumble to myself as I see her walk away, her red robe fluttering slightly in the light breeze blowing through the city. I climb back into the carriage and motion for the driver to continue the journey to the docks.

If only I could get her on my side. Then my timetable for some of my plans would be cut in half. Yet every time that I try to help her or reach out to her, she just shrugs me off. Its infuriating. I’m interrupted from my musings by the presence of another in the carriage.

Directly across from me where there was no one but a moment ago there now sits a Kassari with her legs crossed, bluish black hair draped over one shoulder, her hands clasped in front. Her black eyes staring at me unblinkingly.

Several moments pass as we stare at each other. I then speak up, “How go the preparations for tonight’s event?”

The Kassari’s gaze remains the same as she says, “Why do you keep trying to reach out to that child?”

With a dismissive gesture I reply, “Curiosity mostly, she remains an unknown variable, it is merely a desire to unravel the unknown.”

Blinking slowly the women, “Unknown variable? As far as anyone has been able to tell, she is harmless. Her own mana pool and defenses are so weak that even a Ceorn would have no trouble dealing with her.”

“The variable is not herself really, it is the entity that she is connected to-“ I am cut off as the woman interrupts.

“An entity that she does not even have the ability to summon.”

Cutting her short I say, “Exactly, when have you ever heard of a summoner establishing a bond and not being able to call upon it’s summon. Everything that is known about summoners tells us that that is impossible. So my curiosity stems from this unknown impossibility.”

She replies, “Is it possible that her mana pool is too small for the bond to activate?”

I shake my head, “In all the discussions I’ve had with other summoners, mana is only required to establish the bond and for the number of bonds one can maintain. The amount of mana she has currently allows her to maintain the one bond.”

The Kassari cocks her head, “I still don’t see why she demands so much of your attention. At this point she poses no threat whatsoever to anything that you and I have worked on.”

Sighing, I make another dismissive gesture, before changing the subject, “You never answered my original question. Are all the preparations in place for tonight?”

Finally breaking eye contact with me she looks out the window to her left before saying, “Yes, there are several individuals in place to make a move once the opportunity arises. None of which will trace back to us.”

Realizing that I had been leaning forward, I allow myself to sit back in the seat and relax. The opening stages of a new plan had been put into motion, and now it was just a matter of time to see if they would bloom to fruition. I close my mind for a moment as a multitude of scenarios run through my mind, and by the time I open them again, the Kassari is gone.

Damn, Void Mage. I had hoped to not have to bring her into this this early. But without her sources I wouldn’t be able to put things in motion. Sooner or later she will have to be dealt with….