Chapter 8 Ziroth Academy of Mystic Arts
Some things always have ways of veering off from the norm.
When their group turned to exit the central section, a group of men blocked their path. Leading them was the scarlet haired young man whom they were familiar with, Lukaz Rithfield.
‘There goes the peaceful day I'm hoping so much...’ Gyro shook his head.
“Young man, you have a great reason for blocking our way, right?” Helthor asked nonchalantly.
“Hmp! Of course! You don't know me? And you peasant dare to humiliate in the recruitment?” Lukaz barked. His scarlet eyes burned with malice.
“Hmm? I understand your frustration kid, but everything doesn't revolve around you. When you travel the world, you will find that there's always someone better than you. You have been living here and is used to being the center of attention, so the setback you had in the coliseum affected to you that much... I understand that, but you, bringing here this small troop, really made me disappointed.” Helthor preached.
As a former king, he understood this young man. Lukaz had been pampered since young. Only now did Helthor recalled Lukaz surname. He connected the dots and knew Lukaz was the son of the City Lord. No wonder he had swiftly gathered a group of City guards.
“Still, that doesn't give you peasant the right to take my limelight.” Lukaz pressed on.
“Tch! Truly a spoiled brat... Then, what is it that you want kid?” Helthor asked.
“Simple... Those kids should apologize to me... Hmp!”
“For what? We haven't done you any wrong... Why should we apologize to you?” Zyra couldn't take it anymore. Such an unreasonable brat really made one's blood boil.
“You didn't? Then why did you...”
“Did what? Take your foolish limelight? The hell, we don't care any of it... Go take it yourself... It's not our fault for having better talent than you... You're such unreasonable brat. Didn't your parents teach you manners? And what's with these guards? Are we criminals now? Tch, I like to see how those academy people will take it if they find out that having a great talent is a crime now.” Zyra glared back.
“Hmp! I don't want to talk nonsense with you anymore. Guards go take this people into custody... Put them in prison for five days so that they will learn their lessons.” Lukaz ordered.
Drmmm...
Before the guards could act, the surrounding space was sealed as Helthor casually waved his hand. They were frozen in place and couldn't even move a muscle. Even Lukaz was petrified, tongue-tied.
“Kid, you better learn good manners fast... Your attitude will kill you as soon as you leave the safety of this city if you don't change your ways... And remember, there's always heaven beyond heavens... You better learn fast, kid or your Dad will be disappointed seeing you act that way..." Helthor spoke with warning, a sliver of his aura seeped out as he did.
The Gyro's group continued leaving the immobile guards and Lukaz on the street.
The guards' eyes blinked with fear following the disappearing silhouette of Gyro's group. Five minutes later, they regained this mobility.
"Young Master, that man isn't a low level Mystician. Only above gold master mystician could render us immobile. We better stay away from them, that group was dangerous." One of the guards opined.
Lukaz seemed to realized his mistake. If the man was vengeful, they could have died there. He knew how most mysticians behaves. Their honor shouldn't be cross or questioned, or else endless trouble. Even his Dad wasn't capable of doing such Art. Fortunate... Lady luck seemed to smile at him this time.
Meanwhile, Gyro's group returned to the hotel and retrieved their things before setting out for the village.
“See you in six months, Gy, Zy... I'll be here to attend to my masters needs for a while.” Bart jested making a quick glanced at Aunt Nydelein at the hotel counter.
“Brat, you're going at that master-slave thing? It seems your butt missed my kicks.” Aunt Nydelein obviously heard it.
“You clearly misheard it ma—Aunt.” Bart craned his neck and feigning ignorance.
“Okay Bart, we're going now... See you.” Said Zyra.
“Bye...” Gyro waved his hand and walked off with the rests.
“Alright! Take care guys!” They still heard Bart's voice as they cross the slum towards the city gate.
• — • — •
For the next six months Gyro practiced his tricks improving his mid-level trick to mid mastery. He had no Mystic Meditation Art so had yet to accumulate messence. Hence, perfecting his tricks was all he could do.
Gyro did have another thing in mind during these six months. After returning to the village, he asked Helthor if he could learn the Art of Mystic Forging from him.
His preferred weapon was one of a kind in this world. Even on Earth, Yo-yo wasn't intended to be one. So he had to learn how to craft things and design his weapon.
Helthor had no apprentice, so he agreed to Gyro's request. The Art of Mystic Forging had several requirements, though.
One was strength. There was never a weak Mystic Forger. Muscle and bone strength were necessary to be able to lift a hammer consistently.
Two, intense concentration. A blueprint should be followed precisely as specified. And tremendous focus was necessary to do so.
Three, patience. A mountain of it. To forge an item, a forger would fail most of the time. It would take a great deal of patience to stay on the project even if everything seemed to fall apart.
And of course, talent and creativity. Great items were often a product of great imagination.
And lastly, understanding of runic inscriptions. A Great Mystic Forger was also a great runic master. Runes were symbols and characters inscribe to perform different mystical effect. One example of it was the symbol on the floors of the coliseum during the recruitment of new students.
For an artifact to harness the mystical essence, runes should be itched onto them to allow messence to flow naturally. And runic inscriptions had one requirement, soul sense. It was the mystician's ability to perceive everything around him, seeing what a naked eye couldn't. A Mystician's Soul Sense range depended on his Brain Efficiency and realm.
Despite his low Brain Efficiency and only 1 meter soul sense range, Gyro believed that he could successfully learn the Art of Mystic Forging albeit slowly.
During six months, he focused on studying Runic inscription, reading tomes from Helthor, remembering and analyzing everything. With Trii's help, Gyro stored the tomes' content in the system library, available anytime for his perusal.
“Gy, our carriages was ready. Everyone was waiting for you.” Xander called over. He was the only village youth who passed the examination six months ago.
“Co-coming!” Gyro scoped everything he owned and stored them in a leather rucksack he bought from the traveling merchant who visited the village a few months back. He helped Helthor in the forge, so he earned a few Mis.
When he exited the house, he saw the stout body of Xander blocking his way.
The ginger hair youth eyed him with interest, wondering what took him long enough. With his brown curious eye, Xander looked at him and asked, “Gy, you don't own a lot of things, what took you so long?” His eyes shifted towards the brown leather rucksack slung at Gyro's back.
“Caught up with something... Sorry X.” Gyro apologized, scratching the back of his neck.
“Hmm... Alright, let's go.” Xander nodded and swerved whisking away.
Gyro grinned and darted following the Xander's huge back.
As they reached the parked carriages at the center of the village, Helthor and Zyra were already waiting for them. With them was Xander's parents who were dewed eye especially Maris, the mother.
“Mom, we have already talked about his right? The school-year is only for a year and I'll be home before you know it.” Xander hugged while consoling his Mom.
“I kn–know son... But... I still can't believe you're leaving us.” Sobbing, she hugged her son tighter.
“Okay Mom... That's enough. We're leaving now.”
“You have to take care son...”
“Yes, Mom.” He pecked on her cheek. “Bye Dad!” Xander hugged his father as well.
“Hmm... Be good over there, son... And stay with Zyra and Gyro; they're your only friends there... And be careful.” His father held him at both shoulders.
“Yes, Dad! Bye!” Xander then waved as he climbed on the carriages.
Seeing the emotional scene, Gyro's eye moistened with glistening tears reminiscing his parents back on earth. He mopped his eyes with his robe and turned head away from the rests.
• — • — •
Their journey toward the city was uneventful one. At times, they would stop by the rill and restock their water supply and feed the horses. Gyro still wondered why this magical world still had primitive transportation.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Arriving in the city, they directly went to the central section. There, the rests of the freshmen from Zelleor City assembled and were waiting for the Academy representative to bring them to the school.
“Gy, Zy over here!” A voice rang out alarming everyone. When they looked around to find the source of the voice, the skinny boy with matching emerald eyes and emerald spiky hair appeared skipping over Gyro's group.
“Hahaha! You guys are finally here.” Bart guffawed, his thin lips stretched.
“How long have you been here Bart?” Zyra queried.
“Not long... An hour or so...” Bart grinned. “Gy? Is that you? I hardly recognize you. What happened to your hair? And you've developed some muscles during these six months... Hahaha.”
“Err... Hehehe. I thought a change would be nice, so I cut and dyed my hair... and I've been training my body so—” Gyro said timidly. He had dyed his long frazil-silver hair to black. It was too conspicuous, and somebody might recognize him easily especially his predecessor's enemies.
“Hahaha... That's great! Wow! You have bulging muscles.” Bart teased.
“Tch! A group of peasants... Same birds flocks together.” A mocking voice resounded behind them.
“Oh! The EGO TRIPPING, CONCEITED brat!” Bart evinced.
“What did you say?” The scarlet haired Lukaz growled. Amid the freshmen, he had formed his hencemen of 5.
“Just as what you've heard... Zizizi.” Zyra chuckled.
“You! You better choose the company you're being with girl... These peasants will not do you any good... Better join our group.” Lukaz commented.
“Oh! Yeah... I exactly know whom to be with.” Zyra made a dismissal gesture.
“You—don't know what's good for you. Hmp! Boys!” He signaled. The five freshmen acknowledged his command circling the four.
“You kid... What are you playing at now?” Helthor just arrived after his quick trip to the Mystician Guild.
“Oh, nothing... Let's go guys—” Lukaz slightly trembled seeing Helthor. His spine chilled for a moment. Swiftly, the six scampered away.
“Hahaha... Turtle egg—” Bart humoured.
Zoooom!
Just when the group was laughing at Lukaz group, the air swirled and hummed as a translucent Elysian bubble hovered over them. Gyro's eye lit up the moment it appeared. The bubble was enveloped by a chromatic cerulean aura. It slowly descended, then a tripod sprouted underneath as it alighted on the plaza.
Swoosh! Swoosh!
As the air settled, the ethereal bubble was revealed, gleaming before the awestruck crowd.
In Gyro's estimate, the bubble had a diameter of 30 meters. It was horizontally divided by 5 platforms. Each could house around 100 people.
Tssssh!
A portal opened on the surface of the bubble and a Portly man wearing a heather-violet robes with Ziroth Academy black helix insignia on the chest stepped out. As the man appeared, he smiled and addressed the crowd.
“Firs' yers! Wel'ome to the Hover Bubble Z1, your transport service to the Ziroth Academy. Get in! We're delayed on schedule.” The fatty boomed, gesturing with his swelling hand.
A Hover Bubble was one of the public transport invented by Mysticians. However, it was only available between cities. Its speed was thrice as fast the Mystic Hover Art utilized by a Bronze Junior Master Mystician which was around 60 kilometers per hour.
After he had said that, the freshmen scrambled to enter the bubble first.
“Father, we're off. See you in a year.” Misty eyed, Zyra kissed Helthor on the cheek who replied by hugging her hard.
“Take care, my baby.” Helthor muttered under ragged breathing. It the first time he would be separated from his daughter after all.
“Okay father...Bye—”
“Bye Uncle!”
Gyro was waiting for Zyra and together they climbed towards the portal of the bubble.
When everyone was in, the portal shut then the bubble slightly vibrated. It was again enveloped by the bizarre chromatic blue aura.
Swoosh!
The bubble soared through the air, floated over the clouds for a few seconds, and sped northwest like a bullet. It zoomed towards the ocean. All the freshmen saw as they traveled was the white cumulus around them.
After the initial burst, the bubble settled at a steady speed of 150 kilometers per hour and slightly descended below the clouds for the first years to view the continent below.
Gyro observed that they were flying over a mountain ranges that snaked from the south towards the north. The Zelleor City was located at the southernmost part of Aventhor Kingdom which was one of the smallest kingdoms in the south of Soaring Sun Empire.
Peering further down south, Gyro glimpsed a range of shimmering white mountain ranges bordering the southern sea. Even in the middle of scorching summer of the Fyr Month, the mountain ranges was still covered with snow. This spectacle extended as far as Gyro's eye could see.
They had cruised for 8 hours when the bubble began descending and hovered over the isthmus connecting the mainland towards the Ziroth Island.
The bubble decelerated, flying over the isthmus and approached the island as the freshmen peered over it with interest; seeing the carriages moving to and from the island.
“Hahaha. I've been seeing the same reaction from freshmen over the years... The isthmus below is called Aetherin Pass. It is one of the paths to the Academy.” The fatty explained. His name was Brook Harrington and served as one Ziroth Academy Hover Bubble operators.
“See those carriages below? Our myul servants ride ‘em to go or leave the academy. It was also used by some merchants and students who wanted to travel to and out of the Academy by carriages.” Harrington informed the students who nodded in response.
“On your seat Kids... We'll be landing soon.”
Gyro braced himself as he craned his neck over to look at the Ziroth Island which was getting bigger and bigger as the bubble descended. At the center of the island, he saw an ancient castle with four triangular towers, one at each corner. Covering the castle was a prismatic barrier which he guessed could block or defend from any attack or unwanted teleportation.
When the bubble descended, its bizarre aura hummed in-sync with the barrier which engulfed and swallowed it in as it entered the castle's protection without hindrance.
In front of the castle was a wide expanse field with two Hover Bubble docking platform. The first bubble had already arrived and was safely docked on one platform. It was marked on the surface with:
| Ziroth Academy Hover Bubble Z2 |
After the Hover Bubble Z1 alighted on its designated bay, Harrington's voice tuned out, “Ol'right Kids, off you go—”
The Hover Bubble's portal then opened and the freshmen poured out.
Gyro, Zyra, Bart and Xander weren't in a hurry, though. They waited for everyone to exit before scrambling onto their feet.
The first years lined up in front of the colossal castle that had silver-gray walls, towering over them like a fortress than a castle. The entrance of the castle was like a giant monster maw, opened wide with protruding sharp teeth on the top. Gyro had a feeling that any unauthorized entry to the castle would actuate the sharp teeth to descend, cutting the trespasser into bits.
On the top of the entrance hung glittering words written in Mystral:
| Zixroyth Avcavdewmy oyf Mystixc Avrts |
The magnificent calligraphy seemed domineering and lofty reflecting mysticism of the place.
Standing at each side of the frightening entrance were two sculptures of lion like monsters. They were releasing an intimidating aura which pressed down on the freshmen who had difficulty of breathing.
As the freshmen struggled to adjust to the heavy pressure, an old woman wearing a purple and pointy velvet hat appeared before them.
"Freshmen! Attention." Her word was small and crisp and everyone could clearly hear a commanding and strict tone from it.
The freshmen had no choice but stood straight in full attention. A few even had nervous expression.
“Welcome to Ziroth Academy of Mystic Art. Now, if you please follow me to the great hall. Line up well and stop pushing around.” The old woman sharply said then she spun around and strode towards the entrance.
“New blood Grupp, Grodd... Remember to mark them well.” The old woman addressed the two sculptures which responded releasing an even intense aura. Then symbols floated in the air and zoomed towards each student wrist, imprinting itself to their skin.
The students were dumbstruck at the scene. A lot of them trembled seeing the sculptures came to life with blazing red eyes.
“Relax students... They won't hurt you. These two are our Academy's sentinel. They are Mystic Golems named Grupp and Grodd... The symbol imprinted on your wrist is your student ID. Anyone with that ID will not be attack by these two as you passed the entrance.” The old woman assured the anxious youths.
“Let's go, everyone is waiting.”