AELLARIA

Aellaria had stopped by the Aeromancer’s classroom to steal a wand. The theft was so minor that it would certainly go unnoticed. Wands could be used as an arcane focus for a specific magic school, but they could not channel above cantrips and first-level spells.

Outside of the classrooms, Aellaria bumped into the third person who pulled an intense reaction from her. An Ice mage, one from Frostholm. Aellaria couldn’t remember what this ice mage had done to her daughter. Still, another instant emotional response was born from Aellaria's connection to Zenithor’s memories—one of hatred and disgust.

Then, Aellaria made her way to her dorm room. She locked the door and lay down to begin her practice. The dorm room was quite large. It was designed and furnished for two people. Three doors were on the far end, and a bed was on either side of the room. The three doors were two large walk-in closets, and the central door was the shared restroom between her and her roommate. There were enchantments along the walls to allow for the easy creation of mage lights and to make the solid walls appear as windows.

Aellaria had noticed that none of Zenithor’s magical base had transferred to this new body. She would have to use this time before tomorrow's fights to practice actively casting some spells. Her mind knew countless runes that combined in different orders to make various spells. She focussed on the cantrip Zenithor was most comfortable with, the one to make the wind blow. It was agony.

The body had almost no mana—the mental energy required to cast spells. Aellaria gestured with her hands to make the cantrip spell circle, then pushed the runes for wind through it. When she was Zenithor, this would create a gust of wind that could cut down a small tree, but as Aellaria, it resulted in an impotent little fart of a spell. The spell could probably be used to put a candle out, given it wasn’t burning too hot or further than a couple of feet away. With disappointment, Aellaria realized this magic wouldn’t knock one of the other combatants on their asses.

Aellaria spent hours casting the cantrip, but it only barely increased potency. Zenithor had always been patient and gifted Aellaria with this virtue. She would cast until she was spent of mana and then meditate to recover. Cast. Meditate. Cast. Meditate. She continued this process until the door opened, and her roommate walked through. It was the poor woman from the road, Marin.

Marin marveled at the room. “Wow… there's so much space!” When Marin saw her roommate, she had a conflicted expression. “Oh, hi, Aellaria.” Marin dropped her heavy pack on the floor, rolling her shoulders in relief.

Aellaria realized that Marin was nervous about her. Aellaria’s direct approach with the simple-faced woman may have left a…bad impression.

“Good evening, Ms. Marin of Crowfoot Hill,” Aellaria responded formally. Aellaria thought Marin would fail to make it to Spire in time. Marin must have commendable willpower.

“The road, roommates, and we have the same class. I guess Phoenix really shines on our pairing today, huh?” Marin said, invoking the god of the sun and baking as the reason for whatever luck brought them together.

“It’s as if it was destined,” Aellaria said in a bored tone.

“Is that a joke? Are you making fun of me?” Marin accused. Marin approached the far wall to start checking where the doors lead to.

Aellaria sighed, “If I were going to make a joke, it would be about how you smell after your time on the road.”

“Hey!” Marin shouted before taking a moment to double-check. She lifted her dirty cloak and sniffed herself, “Yeah… alright. Why is the bathroom in our room?”

“Because that is our bathroom,” Aellaria answered simply.

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Aellaria saw Marin blush. Marin retreated into their shared bathroom, dragging her entire pack of belongings behind her to avoid further embarrassment. The door closed once Marin had successfully escaped the awkward moment.

Aellaria was briefly reminded of a time many decades ago when Zenithor was an urchin living on the streets of Mistfall. To someone growing up with very little, a bathroom you share with only one other person was the pinnacle of luxury.

The door to the restroom opened a crack, and Marin’s face peeked out. “How does it work? The water?”

“It is an enchanted stone in the shower head that’s connected to the command stones. You push mana into the command stones to set the temperature.” Aellaria explained.

“I’m sorry… I. Mana?” Marin asked.

“Just fiddle with the shiny rocks until something happens. You are a college student. Experiment.” Aellaria admonished.

The door to the restroom closed, and after an almost concerning amount of time, the water finally started.

By then, Aellaria had already started practicing the wind cantrips again. She worked her mana reserves like a muscle until, hopefully, she could use them to fight. Aellaria crinkled her brow; something was wrong. After sixty years of practicing wind magic in Zenithor’s body, the magic wasn’t coming through effectively. The only answer to Aellaria's problem was to work harder and practice more.

“Is that a spell circle? I’ve never seen one so close…” Marin asked. Marin had changed into a sleeping robe, her hair still wet from the shower. Aellaria thought about telling Marin about the hair dryer but decided it was too much of a bother.

“Yes, a cantrip circle. It is the base of all structured magic in the world.” On her next cast, Aellaria held the circle longer than usual to let her roommate see. It was an ethereal structure brought forth from the combination of Aellaria’s will and knowledge. “So you have only ever cast chaos magic?”

“Yes. That is definitely the right word. Once, I got excited about one of my mom’s strawberry pies and accidentally launched it out the window. Our neighbor's pigs were thankful for the surprise.”

“I’m surprised you are not more overwhelmed by life at Spire.”

Marin laughed. “I am overwhelmed. I don’t know what to expect, but Phoenix is opening his eye, and with everything that's happened, I know he will take care of me.”

Phoenix ‘opening his eye’ referred to this being the first day of the Father’s new moon. Rieth the Bard has closed his eye, and now Phoenix the Father will give us the last heat of the year before winter. Aellaria knows this was mostly superstition on Marin’s part.

Aellaria cast the wind cantrip again, and it failed again. The resulting breeze was nothing more than a swipe of a single fan blade.

Despite its simplicity and lackluster effect, Aellaria could tell that the structured casting of real magic impressed the young sorcerer next to her. Aellaria decided not to get too attached. The EAMP recipients assigned to Spire would surely fail out before the end of the first semester, especially after tomorrow.

Marin climbed into bed, undoubtedly tired after so much walking. “Do you want to be an Aeromancer?” She asked.

Aeromancy was as part of Zenithor as his hands were. No, Aeromancy meant more to Zenithor than his entire body had. “I am an Aeromancer,” Aellaria stated with finality.