AELLARIA
Aellaria lay in the infirmary, covered in a thick layer of soil. She was recovering from the burns inflicted by Flair and the massive mana expenditure used to cast a single jump spell. The healer on staff was an earth healer. The third-year student that went by ‘Seis’ had filled Aellaria’s bed with potent healing soil until just Aellaria’s face, lily, and hat brim poked out. Aellaria thought the self-inflicted moniker was silly, especially for a healer, but decided to focus on meditating to recover.
Another healer on staff wheeled a twitching young woman into the infirmary. Aellaria lost her focus when she noticed this person was Marin. Marin seemed to be okay, mostly. Every couple of seconds, Marin would twitch and spasm involuntarily.
“Don’t worry, Marin. Let me just get a read on your baseline, okay?” the second healer, Angel, said. She was a fourth year and must have been well on her way to becoming a full sorcerer. Her proficiency with healing showed as she used her command with electric magic to read what storm was happening inside Marin’s brain.
“AM BI… TO… BEKAY?” Marin asked after a couple of seconds of this electrical probing.
“That was some shock, but you will be fine. It doesn’t even look bad enough to require a higher-level spell. Just close your eyes and let the magic heal you.” The fourth-year student replied. Aellaria saw Marin close her eyes and give way to the student’s magical static fingers.
After minutes, the buzzing next to Aellaria’s bed stopped, and the fourth-year student said, “There you go! You should be as good as new. Just stay here for another hour after drinking the potion, and then you can go.”
Marin opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. Before Marin could respond, Angel jogged back out of the infirmary toward her next patient. She turned her eyes and looked at the face peering out of the mound of dirt next to her. Marin couldn't help but giggle. “You look like a worm.”
“What happened to you?” Aellaria asked, having had enough meditation for now.
“Some electricity man named Justice shot me in the brain. If you ask me, that seems like trying to kill someone.”
“Spire wouldn’t dare admit an Electromancer that didn’t already have excellent control. It is bad luck you ran into one. You also have to keep in mind that lethal in Spire means unrecoverable. You would be surprised what brinks the healers can bring you back from.” The mound of dirt with a face monologued.
“I guess that makes sense. I just wish I could have proved myself more. My fight literally lasted the amount of time it took me to faceplant into the ground. I wish I were like you. That was the coolest thing I have ever seen anyone do.” Marin said. Marin did seem to be back to her natural self.
The Geomancer, Seis, brought Marin over a minor healing potion. This little red potion significantly increased the body’s innate healing factor. If Marin presented no symptoms after observation with the brew, then her body had fully recovered.
“All I did was punch a bitch in the face. I think she deserved it after what she said about you.” Aellaria said, hiding the real motive behind her passionate first fight. Aellaria channeled how Zenithor’s daughter used to speak when she was most relaxed around him, and she hoped it sounded at least somewhat natural. She wasn’t comfortable with vulgarity or sass, but she was proficient.
“Are you kidding? You did something, and the look on her face when she couldn’t hit you was priceless. ‘Oh no, like, I’m about to get knocked on my flat ass’” Marin flew into a giggle fit, and Aellaria let herself smile at the memory.
“How do you think we did?” Marin asked.
“There are sixty-six students in our class. I will fall somewhere in the thirtieth to thirty-fifth range. The teachers won’t like that I gave up after winning, and I won my first fight without demonstrating anything magically impressive. You will be in the high forties only because you got shot down by a first-year Electromancer. Everyone loses to the Electromancers in the first year.” Aellaria explained.
“You don’t think I deserve the bottom ten?” Marin asked.
“Of course not. The professors will save the bottom ten ranks for the cowards and those who make terrible decisions. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone accidentally knocked themselves out with their own spell.” Aellaria said.
“I wasn’t afraid. I had a game plan and thought I was going to win.” Marin said.
“Everyone has a game plan until their brain is turned into pudding.”
Marin laughed, then grinned. “I guess I can see someone knocking themselves out. Once back home, I ran outside because I was late feeding the chickens. When I opened the door, I accidentally put air into it, and it swung back around and laid me flat.” There was a hint of embarrassment in her voice. Aellaria began to think that Marin’s stories and simple nature were endearing.
Aellaria thought of Zenithor’s daughter, her daughter, Lilium. The way Lily would tell stories in the most roundabout way. The way a story about a butterfly landing on your finger could turn into an odyssey of emotions hitherto felt by any other mortal. Thinking of Lilium brought a lump into Aellaria’s throat. She swallowed it. Aellaria shifted within the mound of soil.
“I think I will go back to the dorm. I’m starting to feel hungry. I’ll make enough for two if you are coming up.” Aellaria said, the mound of dirt sliding off the bed with her.
“Oh, okay,” Marin said. Aellaria could tell from Marin’s tone that Aellaria’s sudden departure disheartened her.
MARIN
That evening, after healing and watching Aellaria practice, Marin decided it was time to try to come out of her shell. She went to the cafeteria to eat with the rest of the students for dinner service.
Marin sat alone at one of the booths in the large room. The diners were almost exclusively first-year and second-year students. There was one table with Juniors, but no gray-robed Seniors were in the room. Marin guessed that once you reached those heights, you lose even time for public dining.
Marin had decided not to be too adventurous and asked the chef to make her a comfort food. Trencher with Stew was a thick slice of bread with stew ladled across it. She ate little bites as she listened to the other groups of students laugh and talk about the fights earlier today.
She was listening to four sophomores talk about some big names in her class. This included statements like ‘Of course she is strong, her brother is Professor Aeren.’ ‘She overheated the stage!’ and ‘I’m just happy Terra isn’t in our class.’
Marin thought about what it would be like to be so powerful. Marin wished she could impress people like that. ‘Ash, I wish I could impress anyone.’ Marin thought. While Marin daydreamed, picking at her Trencher and Stew, she heard a familiar voice.
“You know, they have like any food you could possibly want here. Why would you choose vegetable stew and a boring old slice of bread?” Flair asked. Flair was standing with Bren and a third girl whom Marin didn’t recognize.
This girl wore blue robes, meaning she was in the same class as herself. The girl also had an oversized long staff strapped over her shoulder.
“Yes, I thought that maybe it would be nice. I’ve been away from home for three weeks and miss my family.” Marin responded, hoping to endear herself to the women enough for them to move on.
“Why don’t you just send to them using a sending stone? I will send to Daddy like every day if he answers.” Bren responds.
“By Hitaru’s will, cut the cord already, Bren,” Flair teased.
“Dads don’t have umbilicuses,” Bren snaps. Flair starts to giggle at the word umbilicus, and the giggle spreads to Marin and the fourth girl.
“Umbilicus isn’t a word!” Flair squeals, and everyone but Bren laughs uproariously. Marin holds a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle it.
Bren’s head snaps to Marin, the momentum making her massive emerald earrings swing then sway. “Hey EAMP! Do you think you’ve earned the right to laugh at me? You better guess again. I will lay you flat faster than any lightning bolt, bitch.” Bren snaps.
Marin tried to stop giggling, but the anger on Bren’s face made her nervous. Marin couldn’t help her nerves as the laughter turned into a giggling sob. “I-I-I'm sorry.”
“Hey, ladies…. You’re crowding the woman. Give her some space.” A deep voice said as a familiar man stepped forward. The Geomancer, Gaff, towered over the trio that crowded Marin’s booth.
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“Yeah, whatever, I was just trying to be nice,” Flair said before she stormed off, Bren and the blue-robed woman walking behind her in formation.
“Are you alright? My name is Gaff.” Gaff sits down at the table. The large man had a tray of all different types of baked goods. A bowl of cream was in the middle of the slices of cakes, cookies, and tarts.
“I’m alright. There is still a lot to learn here.” Marin said with a hint of sadness. She caught herself and changed the subject with a smile, ”Is that your dinner?”
“Haha, nah. I’m just celebrating with a dessert. Three wins. Only five of us got three wins, you know.” Gaff boasted. “About those girls–They have to learn something, not you.” Gaff slid his tray of sweets to the center of the table, offering some to Marin.
“You might be right… But I feel like everything about this place is pushing me out and away,” Marin said. “Sorry, I don’t mean to vent to someone I just met, but I tried with my roommate, and she has the emotional availability of a brick wall.” Marin apologized.
“Don’t sweat it. Which one is your roommate?” Gaff asked. He reached down, dipped the cake slice's tip into the cream saucer, and took a healthy bite.
“The one with the hat.”
“Ohh, her. She had that old-timey name, too,” Gaff said through a delightful, crumb-dotted smile.
“Yes, Aellaria. I think she means well,” Marin said. “It’s difficult to know how far behind I am, and she weaves spells so effortlessly. You didn’t exactly make your fight with Kyrine look difficult, either.”
Gaff responded with a mouth half full of chocolate cookies, “Most of the students here are from smaller towns and villages,” Gaff said before swallowing. “Where there are only a handful of talented individuals. They never saw more than two or maybe three schools of magic.”
“I am even further behind than that. Before Spire, I only saw one other mage. There was a traveling bard who stopped by our farm once. I was eight, I think. He played special Aquamancy instruments, and that was the only time I had ever seen talent before. It was enchanting. He could make crisp and clean notes on the chimes and then use water to shift between clear and muffled sounds. It was beautiful.” Marin was suddenly nervous about talking so much.
“Does that mean you want to be a bard?” Gaff asked. “Or did you just want to be a bard when you were young?”
“Neither. When my talent developed, I just didn’t want to be a burden. I broke many things our family couldn’t afford to lose.”
“That is rough. It must have been a tough place to be in for your family,” Gaff said with a tone of understanding.
“It was. My Dad got the priests of the mother, but they were just holy men and didn’t know any magic themselves. On the bright side, I had my own room for about a year until I figured out all of my triggers.”
“That's the worst. My talent emerged while I was camping. I learned that one of my triggers was squatting. I accidentally collapsed the latrine I had just finished digging.” Gaff laughed.
“Oh no!” Marin said before laughing herself. At least there was something that could connect her to all of these people.
“Anyways, if you wanted to continue venting, maybe we could do it in my room. I don’t have a roommate, so you can just say whatever,” Gaff said, his broad, chiseled face lit up with a charming smile.
It was too charming for Marin’s liking. Confident. “I… I should go. Aellaria seemed upset earlier, and I should go check on her.” Marin hurried out of the booth and stood up.
“It’s okay, hey. Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean anything by it,” Gaff said, going to leave his seat as well to follow Marin.
“No, you are cool. I enjoyed meeting you, Gaff, but my mom has a saying: ‘Don’t let a rooster in the henhouse if you want eggs for breakfast.’ I have a lot to worry about now and don’t want to add to it,” Marin explained as she retreated back toward the dorms.
AELLARIA
Aellaria was standing in her dorm room, continuing to practice. Even when using the Aeromancer's wand to channel the runes for her spells, Aellaria needed more significant movements to incorporate more mana into the spells. These actions resulted in a session that looked like martial arts but with little puffs of wind here and there following the creation of a spell circle. Aellaria knew that her body was years behind where it should be for Spire. When Zenithor was fourteen, he recalled using Aeromancy to topple an entire cart of apples. Now, she was a college student and would have to use every ounce of energy to push half as hard as Zenithor’s childhood self.
Marin burst into the room, and Aellaria could tell the young woman was upset. “You okay, bud?” Aellaria asked casually. Aellaria hoped to put the bare minimum into this interaction so that she could move on and focus on practicing.
But Marin had other plans. “No! It’s not okay. First, I was just trying to eat, and those girls decided to bother me again. Then, I thought someone was trying to help me, but all that brickhead wanted was to bed me. I am supposed to start learning magic from the beginning, but Hitaru’s blessing starts tomorrow, too. I am so far behind. Everyone else sucks, and I suck worst of all.” Marin said as she paced back and forth next to her bed.
“What is Hitaru’s blessing?” Aellaria asked, wondering what the goddess of family and blood had to do with anything. “Pregnancy?”
Marin collapsed onto her bed and shouted a muffled “No!” into the pillow.
“Hmm. oh… OHHH.” Aellaria said as realization dawned on her.
“Yeah, at first, I was happy that I wasn’t going to get it while I traveled, but now I am neck-deep in water, and tomorrow, the sharks circle!”
Aellaria wrinkled her brow. “I wasn’t raised with this many euphemisms. Can you try to speak plainly and calmly for my sake?” Aellaria said. Aellaria, being a woman now for only three days, could not handle this tier of verbal substitution.
“I’m sorry. I'm just so frustrated.” Marin said, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do. If I go home, then Mother was right about me.”
Aellaria sighed. She sat on the bed next to Marin. “There are spells that can ease that. I know you can’t cast them, but the healers might be able to help. Maybe there is a pile of dirt you can sit in to fix your period.” Aellaria joked and smiled. Having had a teenage daughter, Zenithor knew many magical arts could help with this problem.
Marin, to her credit, let out a sob-chuckle. “I know, but even then, it is still another thing I must do, and it will be so embarrassing.” Marin rested her head against Aellaria’s shoulder, and Aellaria let her.
Seconds passed, and Marin stated, “Pregnancy is Tillia’s blessing. Periods are Hitaru’s blessing. It’s tongue in cheek.”
“Right, my family never put much stock into religion,” Aellaria lied. Zenithor’s wife Celia would often sing The Jester’s songs to Lilium as a baby. “And don't start going on about Phoenix’s radiant light, or I swear you'll wind up on the rug.”
“I won’t,” Marin said. “But the stories are nice, and I always wanted to be a cleric or paladin of the father or mother. Do you have any aspirations?”
Aellaria thought for a moment. Zenithor discovered the existence of the soul and its use in spellcasting. All Aellaria had to do was write a single arcane thesis and become the greatest sorcerer of all time. “I probably aspire to remove my uterus altogether before it becomes a hindrance,” Aellaria responded thoughtfully.
Marin paused, then laughed– a raucous exhale hard enough to make her fall back onto her bed.
Aellaria continued to consider her more serious goals. She would have to use the pattern of her new body to look into Lilium’s treasures to understand how Lilium felt. However, she would have to become stronger first. Her body couldn’t cast the level two spell to start her investigation.
Aellaria stood up and went back to practicing her formations and casting. As she moved, she said, “Tomorrow, you will learn your efficiencies. If you are fire or earth, you could say it is destiny for you to be a cleric of your beloved Phoenix or Tillia.”
“Why does everybody tease me?” Marin asked almost dreamily as she stared at the ceiling while on her back.
The question resonated with Aellaria. It made her think about Lilium again. Lilium was slow to develop and socially stunted after Celia’s death. Thinking about Zenithor’s dead wife and daughter hurt, of course, and caused Aellaria to retreat into her practice.