AELLARIA, SUNDAY, MERCHANTUS 15TH

Aellaria was frustrated when that next Friday came around; her arcane focus still wasn’t ready. Everyone except for Paris, Marin, and her had their arcane focuses distributed in class by Niall. Aellaria knew that the more enchantments on the focus, the more work required, but she had reached the point where she felt confident enough to cast a second-level spell this week. She felt anxious that time was being wasted. It wouldn’t have been had she hired her own enchanter when she was in Mistfall rather than trust in the enchanters of Spire.

Then, on Sunday, the day of the harvest festival, Aellaria debated purchasing an unbound arcane focus but decided it wouldn’t be worth the money. She just needed to wait. The arcane focus would be done the next week, and then she could finally get some answers.

When she left the herbalist's shop, Aellaria filled her backpack with herbs she could use to make potions, poisons, and concoctions. Any products she made with a shelf life that she didn’t use would then go to Marin to sell. Aellaria profited from this arrangement, at least until Marin finished paying her back.

Marin showed surprising initiative when dealing with the jeweler who made her arcane focus. Instead of paying the jeweler with the scraps of the gems cut, Marin convinced him to make ten rings with the excess. Of these ten rings, the jeweler took five, and Aellaria would get four. Marin decided to make a band out of amethyst, the least valuable of the rings. She wanted to send it home for her father to give to her mother.

Aellaria thought the naive and ignorant Marin would get scammed by the jeweler, but she managed to find a way to make sure everyone in the deal left with the most value possible. She mitigated her debt to Aellaria by hundreds of gold pieces.

Aellaria’s final stop would be at the falls, and then she would make her way to the harvest festival. However, as she approached Mistfall’s east gate, she felt eyes on her. Aellaria wasn’t naive. Zenithor was a rogue who made it to his eighties. Even young rogues could tell exactly when they are being watched.

Aellaria adjusted her pack and used this subtle moment to scan the surrounding town of Mistfall. She was just outside the market district, and there was more traffic due to the preparation for the harvest festival. Then she saw him. A young man with snow-white hair. Their eyes locked on each other. Aellaria was too shocked to continue pretending the maneuver was simply adjusting her pack. Something unprecedented had happened.

When Zenithor assassinated someone– that person never came back. And yet, that was Callo standing within 100 feet of her. After a single heartbeat, Callo was gone.

The pulse of hope was followed by a constant thrumming of frustration. Aellaria glared at the spot where Callo had stood, but nothing happened. The specter didn’t reappear. It was gone.

Aellaria cursed herself for her weakness. “Dar’s cunt” she muttered. Why had she felt any hope when she saw the ghost of her victim? If he were alive, then he would have told the authorities about the attempted murder. Callo’s visage should have wrought anguish. A living Callo meant her plans were ruined, and that was something Aellaria couldn’t abide.

Aellaria half expected a dramatic confrontation when she went to the falls. However, the descent and ascent were as normal as they had always been.

Now fully stocked on her training supplies, she packed everything securely and left it in a hidden place where she could find it when she eventually walked back to Spire.

***

Aellaria was the last to arrive at the harvest festival. The Misterran Cidery had erected the largest booth, and the crisp night air was saturated with the scent of fermented apples. The only larger structure was the raised earth stage, where Spire Sophomores were already setting up for the first magical demonstrations. Geomancers had excavated tiered seating radiating away from the stage at the center. There were large booths for food, spirits, trinkets, and tools. At the periphery of the festival were the smaller booths where farmers sold a wide variety of autumn produce. The clearing was well lit, not by the filling Merchant’s moon above but by an array of pastel-colored mage lights.

Honestly, Aellaria looked forward to taking a break from practicing just to drink and listen to people talk. The real work would begin next week, which would be her last moments free of conspiracy and plotting. Aellaria found that this was another of the breaks between her and Zenithor. Zenithor would have been happy to plot and conspire until his brain bled.

Aellaria was tempted to wear her black robes for the outing but decided against it. A Freshman wearing black robes wouldn’t have been seen as badass; it would have been almost suicidal. Any Seniors who took a moment out of their busy schedules to enjoy the harvest festival would have cut her arrogant ass down to size.

Thinking of clothes, Aellaria had decided she liked her new, slim build. If Zenithor had been this flexible, nothing would have ever stopped him. Strength can easily be supplemented with magic, but agility and reflexes are more complex. She decided that some dresses and slimmer-cut robes were acceptable for special occasions like this. Holidays, graduating to the next year, the deaths of her enemies: Celebrations and tradition mattered to Aellaria.

‘Maybe it was finally time to celebrate the end of Callo’s life?’ Aellaria thought. A tradition to provide some closure. The first of five that had no right to thrive after Lilium’s death. As the harvest festival rolled to a start, Aellaria sped ahead, finishing four shots of Faerie's Nectar within the first hour of her arrival.

Syn ran up to Aellaria, putting a hand on her lower back out of concern, “Woah, Aellaria? You are going a little heavy today. Those are hard spirits. You should stick with some cider!”

Aellaria smiled at Syn. “I’m good.” However, when she spun her head, she realized that maybe she wasn’t. “But, I should sit down for a while,” Aellaria conceded, smiling.

Marin offered Aellaria her other arm, and the three women approached rows of fallen logs overlooking a raised earth stage.

“The sophomores of Spire are running a talent show. I hear the top of Niall’s sophomore class is a bard. He’s supposed to be gorgeous and carved like Rieth himself,” Marin said.

“Who… who are you even hearing this gossip from? We are like all of your friends?” Aellaria slurred.

Marin pouted, “I have ears and needs, Aellaria.”

‘Pfft,’ blew Aellaria. She was at a good level of drunk. She might actually enjoy tonight.

Behngi found the women and took a free seat next to them. He handed out mugs of cider. Syn cautiously handed Aellaria a mug, and when Aellaria only slowly sipped at the beverage, Syn relaxed.

The night's first performance was an Electromancer and an Aquamancer dancing and feigning combat. The Aquamancer couldn’t harm the Electromancer because he was too quick for her water to catch. The Electromancer couldn’t harm the water mage because she could redirect his electricity away.

The common folk of the audience were astonished by the display of magic. Ooohs and aahs followed almost every magical feat.

The two performers then decided to fight with just their martial prowess. They were ducking, diving, and rolling past one another in displays of agility and acrobatics that few in the Freshman class could manage. Aellaria kept giggling. Aellaria recalled a memory from Zenithor when he took Lilium to a similar show. It was the happiest he had seen her his entire life.

Eventually, the two mages stood on stage, breathless and panting for air as they stared each other down. The performance ended with the two locked in a passionate embrace, kissing each other with unbridled desire. The crowd started cheering and whooping, including Syn, who clapped loudly.

There were more dances, a magical play, and many combat showcases. However, the crowd seemed to hush at the next performer. He was wearing enchanted white robes with blue trim. He was part of the Sophomore class, specifically Niall’s student.

The man was holding a guitar and half sat, half stood against the stool. With the way his robes were trimmed, he showed off his abs. Aellaria mentally conceded that with the amount of work the bard put into them, he had the right.

The apprentice bard on stage smiled at the audience. “Everyone… for this song, I will need five volunteers. Do I have any?” He smiled, and his teeth glowed brighter than the magelights above him.

Marin raised her hand, and Syn laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm. Marin and four other women were selected, and they all made their way on stage.

The women stood behind the mage per his direction. Marin was on the far left and nervously waved to the crowd. “Ladies, do you know who I am? Have we met before?” The apprentice bard asked.

The women shook their heads in the negative. Marin heard rumors of the talented bard but nothing more.

“Everyone, my name is Barra, and I will show you some real magic today. Not just throwing a fireball or summoning electricity. I am going to show you the true power of magic. Ladies… could you dance for me? Nothing too lascivious, please, just have fun.” He drawled.

Marin was nervous in front of an entire crowd but could already tell that if this man commanded it–she would easily dance until the sun rose. Then, she would have an excuse to ask him to carry her back to the tower in his strong arms.

The women all started dancing, but it was discordant, and they quickly stopped.

The man center stage smiled, “Oh right, you need music, don't ya?” The crowd laughed at the young man’s blunder and charm. His fingers started their dance up and down the strings, creating both rhythm and melody. “Now… you can dance.”

The five women started dancing as he played the melody. Then, as he played, there were small explosions of electric light in the air above the crowd. The explosions were timed, with the music adding percussion to the enchanting melody. Finally, the man on stage started to sing.

Through a turbulent mind came many thoughts,

His money and lies and those he lost,

then the dagger thrust, with venomous brew,

Left them wondering, "Can this be true?"

The verse was slow and beautifully played. The Electromancer played the guitar, sang, and cast all at the same time.

Aellaria watched in fascination as she noticed that two dancers, swaying and rotating almost randomly, were now making identical movements. Two untalented women were now moving with precision and beauty. Then, the chorus kicked in.

“It's not enough to renounce yourself,” The crowd would chant.

They carried swords and spears. Abdication is here, “Let us in.”

The lord ran, but the commonfolk were a tide. In unison, they rant

“You can sprint, and you can flee, but it is time to take your medicine.

The crowd started to realize what was happening, and by that point, all five women on stage moved as one. Marin still smiled awkwardly as if dancing on her own accord. She hadn’t realized that the bard was manipulating her.

Through the Panicking mind, came many thoughts

Of the times it cried, and those he lost

Then the dagger thrust, the venomous brew,

Then everyone knew, the killer was you.

Something was unsettling about the display. The music was cheery, and the magic was impressive, but the song chosen was about the public execution of a murderous lord. Paired with the unsettling display of manipulative magic, it made Aellaria feel sick. The women chosen by the bard to dance, including Marin, were dancing as if to a much different song.

Aellaria saw Marin’s eyes glowed with the happiness she felt from the attention of her performance.

The lord ran to a cabin in the forest! The crowd “Let us in.”

He bar the door against the chorus! The crowd “Let us in.”

His barricades crumbled and shattered all. “You will let us in!”

He backed away, and to his knees, he falls, “how can I even begin?”

“It is time for you, lord, to take your medicine.”

The crowd cheered, and Marin gave them a bow, then hugged Barra before running off the stage and back toward her friends.

Aellaria left, stumbling back toward the road. Something was off in her head. Alarms were blaring that something was wrong. The crowd's cheers became distant, and Aellaria barely registered the concerned words of Marin, Behngi, and Syn as she walked away.

Aellaria was too drunk. That had to be the problem. The Faerie's Nectar had a magical component, and it overwhelmed her alcohol-intolerant body. The solution was in the pack she left by the road. Inside her recently purchased alchemical supplies were a half dozen mana potions and a healing potion. That healing potion would increase her body’s natural healing factor and end her drunkenness.

But this sense of weakness, this sense of danger, wasn’t coming from her dulled perception. Somewhere, a genuine danger lived, but she couldn’t see it.

“Aellaria, wait!” Marin said as she jogged to catch up. The drunken Aellaria moved with purpose as they approached the edge of the harvest festival. The two women drew the attention of some of the farmers, partygoers, and workers, but Aellaria continued on. Marin reached out to grab Aellaria’s shoulder. “Aellaria, what's gotten into you? Are you okay?”

“Something’s wrong… I need my potions.” Aellaria said. The adrenaline slightly sobered her, but not enough to understand what her instincts were screaming at her.

Marin kept her hand on Aellaria’s shoulder, letting the raven-haired woman know she was there to help. “Aellaria, you can’t walk alone all the way to Spire like this. Let me come with you.”

Aellaria, stumbling, put her weight on Marin. She couldn’t continue like this. “I left my backpack by the road, behind the big oak,” Aellaria said. “Healing potion...”

Looking confused at Aellaria, Marin asked, “You need a healing potion from your pack?”

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Aellaria nodded.

Marin took Aellaria to the edge of the forest by the trail. The sounds of the festival fade with each step. “Let me go get that for you. Southeast or Southwest corner?”

Aellaria tried to remember, “Southeast. Thank you, Marin.” she said, genuinely grateful for the help.

Aellaria tried to rest her head against the rough bark of the tree she sat against. Minutes passed, and luckily, the dulling of her senses didn’t get any worse.

After ten minutes, the lottery apprentice still hadn’t returned. Aellaria began to worry.

She wished she had her arcane focus to purge her body of this poison here and now. Aellaria used the tree to stand. She scanned one more time and that's when she saw him. Back toward the festival was a man wearing blue robes. A young man with messy white hair. This is who set off her alarms. Callo was staring at her.

She stepped forward to confront the cryomage, but she couldn’t move. There was soil over her feet, rooting her in place.

“Not good…” Aellaria thought, but it was her last thought before something hit her hard. Dazed, she felt her body dragged along the forest floor, further into the darkness, further from the light of the festivities.

Aellaria looked around, trying to get at least some information, and saw Marin lying unconscious on the ground. “Bren, let me go… you bitch.” Aellaria said.

Suddenly, Aellaria’s world flipped 90 degrees, and she was sitting half-buried. Her arms and legs were trapped beneath rock and soil. Standing in front of her were Bren, Flair, and Alyviah.

Bren had that smug bitchy look on her face, and it made Aellaria even more sick. “I don’t think I will. You see… I told you that the two of you had this coming. Now it’s time for you to take your licking, and maybe we’ll let you live.”

Flair stepped forward. She was wearing her red Pyromancer robes, apparently not wanting to wear Niall’s colors when taunting her classmates. “First, you'll tell us exactly what happened to Callo.”

Aellaria, surrounded by soil and stone, wobbled back and forth. Each movement made the floppy tip of her hat bounce back and forth. “We have told you a thousand times. What did you do to Marin?”

Bren sauntered around the immobilized Aellaria. “Not enough, but we will fix that when she wakes up. I thought the EAMP needed a bit more punch, but no. She is even weaker than I thought.”

“Tell me, princess, what do you want me to say,” Aellaria said in a low growl.

Instantly, the rocks in her pile shifted, but not in the way that the body was designed to move. One of the bones in her right forearm snapped. Aellaria screamed out in pain, but her eyes never left Bren’s.

“Bren! Don’t go too far. You’ll be expelled!” Alyviah warned—the woman with the large staff looked around nervously for reactions to the scream.

“Yeah, Bren, you’ll scare Alyviah if you keep this up,” Aellaria hissed. Luckily, being drunk slightly dulled the pain.

Flair walked up and punched Aellaria in the face. The impact was dazzling. Aellaria gasped in pain and breathed in some of the soil surrounding her torso. She coughed and tried to regain her composure.

Flair asked, “What did you do to Callo that night?” The Pyromancer looked satisfied to get that punch in.

Aellaria closed her eyes as if she were trying to recall the events. “How about this? As soon as my story changes. I will let you know. Honestly, the first people that deserve to know are my local dumb bitch detective service.”

Bren cast another severe cantrip, and the rocks broke her left forearm. Aellaria winced at the pain, but this time, it wasn’t a surprise.

“Callo’s dead. He went over the edge. We may never know. Unfortunately, he is dead and can’t tell us,” Aellaria said, grinding her teeth in pain.

Bren stepped in front of Flair and smirked. “That’s where you are wrong. Callo is alive.” Bren said.

Aellaria glared into the bitch’s eyes and saw the worst thing possible. Smug satisfaction. Bren couldn’t hide that she knew something that Aellaria didn’t. “What do you mean?” Aellaria asked.

Flair responded. “Callo was brought into Spire today. He didn’t die after he fell.”

Aellaria blinked in surprise. “That’s good. What does that have to do with you?”

“I talked to him,” Flair said. “Do you know what he said?”

Aellaria wanted to believe these were lies, but her ability to read people, to read the self-satisfied expressions on their faces, told her they weren’t lies. “The suspense is killing me,” Aellaria snarled.

Aellaria was cornered, and both of her arms were broken. Another way to cast would be verbally, but then the women could react. There remained only one option.

Aellaria knew componentless casting. The runic language begged to be gestured or said aloud, but the expert sorcerers learned how to project the runes with their minds. Aellaria prepared to jettison the rocks from the pile and use them to bludgeon the girls before her. She just needed to hear what the girls had to say first.

“Callo says he was drunk. He remembers going over the edge. He remembers clinging to the cliffside and begging for help. He begged and pleaded, but none of you listened.Callo says he clung until he was falling, and when he looked up, someone was looking down at him.” Flair said, glaring angrily at Aellaria.

Aellaria was astonished. This dumb bitch was telling the truth. But that truth diverged from factual and fictitious events swimming in Aellaria’s mind. He didn’t fall. He was launched. He never shouted, begged, or pleaded. At least not until he was already falling. Callo was never stuck on the cliff. “You’re lying.” Aellaria accused, but her mind flashed to the image of Callo in Mistfall. He was at the Festival.

Bren responded this time. “Flair wouldn’t lie about Callo. She has the biggest crush on him. Besides, I saw him myself. He is a husk of who he once was after you two let him down.”

“Then you’re both delusional, which is way more believable than Callo falling over the edge and coming back almost two months later.”Aellaria’s mind raced. The Callo she had seen looked the same as he did that first week. If he was broken or emaciated, that means she was seeing things. ‘Could both be true?’ Aellaria thought.

Being ever unable to deal with insults, Bren decided to react in the extreme. She reached into the ground with her magic and pulled forth a boulder. She raised it up over her head, right in front of and over Aellaria– as if she was about to brutally add the head to the most shit snowman ever created.

“What are you doing?” Marin asked, regaining consciousness faster than the three women expected. Bren was the first to respond, tossing the boulder to the side and trying to grab the woman with the soil

It was too late, though. Marin realized what was happening, summoned a magelight, and threw it into the air with all her strength, leaving Bren’s influence before she could react.

The act of defiance left Marin open for Bren to capture. Within seconds, she sat beside Aellaria, planted in a similar pile.

“You two brought Callo out to the woods.” Flair accused.

“You got him drunk, and even knowing how under the influence he was, you let him stay out alone,” Bren added.

“Then he pleaded for your help, and you were all too drunk to give it to him.” Flair finished.

Alyviah whispered a stern warning. “Someone is coming!”

Light filled the entire area, like a spotlight on their location—a powerful magelight. “What's going on here?” a voice shouted that she recognized from the performance moments earlier.

Aellaria’s eyes adjusted to the light, and she saw that the caster was the apprentice bard. Behind Barra were Behngi, Syn, Gaff, and some other Freshmen.

Bren glared at the people who dared intrude on her interrogation. However, she realized she was outmatched. Bren strutted off toward the main road, and Flair followed. Alyviah looked scared but chose to follow her friends, hurrying after them.

“Hazing?” Barra asked. Under the spotlight, his smile looked even more charming.

“Yes,” Aellaria responded. She knew she’d rather escape the situation and figure out what was happening. Her priority was finding out exactly what Callo had told the teachers.

“Wait. No!” Marin said, outraged. “That wasn’t hazing. They tried to kill you!”

Gaff was present and used a combination of Geomancy and Aquamancy to gently extract Aellaria from the stone and soil.

“They weren’t going to kill me,” Aellaria said. “They were all bark.”

“Your arms are broken,” Gaff said matter-of-factly.

“I did that myself while trying to get free.” Aellaria countered. “It hurts like you wouldn’t believe, though.”

Barra, the top of the Sophomore class, knelt before Aellaria. He pulled out his guitar, and none of the students watching questioned his authority.

A flower in the garden, a bloom most fair

Passionate stalk, brought low by wear

With hands and voice loving, I help you mend

Healing every wound, your new loyal friend

By the time his spell had finished, Aellaria’s bones had set back into place, and the pain faded to a dull discomfort.

“There you go, lovely. Can I pick this flower?” The bard said, offering to pluck Aellaria from her earthy prison.

Aellaria watched the apprentice bard and stood up of her own will. She tried to bat away the dirt sticking to her robes but winced in pain.

Barra went to catch Aellaria, but she waved him off. “Alright then. You'll want to see a proper healer. Those breaks are far from 100 percent.”

“Thank you, sir bard. Your services are appreciated, especially by her,” Aellaria said, gesturing toward Marin, who was being freed from her own earthy prison. Aellaria then walked toward the main road where her pack was stashed.

Marin looked embarrassed when Barra looked at her with a heart-flutteringly handsome smile. “Yes, your services are very nice.” She said nervously before chasing after Aellaria.

Syn and Behngi followed.

Syn stormed up behind Aellaria, “What in Phoenix’s Ash are you doing?”

Aellaria wanted to find out the truth. Was Callo genuinely alive? Was he going to ruin everything for her? What had he been doing this whole time? Will she have to run? Aellaria walked and considered the question, responding with a version of the truth. “Reports can wait. They said that Callo is at Spire, and I believe them.”

“Bullshit!” Syn said. “Bullshit, clovers, and ashes.” Syn cursed again.

Aellaria walked over to her pack but worried she might not have healed enough to lift it. “Behngi… can you get the healing potion out of the large compartment?”

“Yes, Aellaria, but what do you mean? Callo?” He said as he effortlessly lifted the pack, fishing through the packed vials for the familiar shimmering orange liquid. The thoughtful elf even removed the stopper for Aellaria before handing it over.

Aellaria drank the potion and could feel her body start to counteract the remaining alcohol and mend her broken bones. She let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t know any more than you do. Let's go to Spire and learn the truth. I need to rest my head.”

Aellaria sobered up as she walked toward Spire with Behngi, Marin, and Syn. Aellaria’s friends didn't dare think that Callo was alive and well. They had already extinguished that spark, and letting it reignite just to lose it again might hurt more.

Aellaria hadn’t felt this much agony since Zenithor died. There was a storm in her head of what-ifs. What if Callo survived the fall? What if Niall couldn’t find his body in the lake? What if he survived these weeks? What if he remembers what you talked about? What if he knows you killed him?

If he knew–Aellaria would be dead. Callo would have told Flair, and Flair or Bren would have tried harder to kill her. Callo would have told Niall or Rietta, and they would have brought her to justice by now.

Then how does he not know?

Aellaria was almost sure that he didn’t know. However, she didn’t want to start jogging his memory. She decided that she would leave the confrontation to the others. They would see him. They would be happy.

When the four students arrived at Spire, Aellaria dismissed herself to her dorm, citing feeling unwell after the confrontation with Bren. They didn’t question it. It was certainly a traumatic evening.