Asabasha 40, 350 AOR
Cal couldn’t formulate a single thought. Not one.
One second, the Prince of Elda stood before him, and the next, gone, leaving Cal at the edge of the district as he stared dumbly at the very useless gate. He could’ve sworn that a few concerned looks shot his way, but he ignored them, opting to instead approach the gate and look closely at the structure and surrounding area.
Maybe he hid behind it? Maybe he used Illusion magic?
The latter was entirely possible, though if it was, Cal would have no way of knowing. So, muttering his confusion, Cal stepped toward the middle of the gate and peered in, his face inches from the entrance.
“What in the world is—”
“Cal? What are you do—”
Interrupting the interrupting prince with a quick jab to the face, Cal’s heartbeat tore out of his chest as he recoiled backward in the same second. When his heart settled, he finally realized what he had hit—who he had it.
First and foremost, Cal was a soldier, and throughout his life, he was always taught to defend himself when threatened. So, when a face appears out of virtually nowhere, would it not constitute the desire to defend one’s self… even if it meant punching a prince square in the face?
Well, if Cal learned anything from striking the Prince of Elda, it was that the aforesaid disappeared behind the gate; however, Cal couldn’t see him. He couldn’t explain the phenomenon, but he could make an educated guess.
Slowly approaching the gate again, Cal brought up his hand at the pace of a turtle. When it rose to where Ray’s head just was, Cal pushed forward, and like he was touching the surface of a smooth lake, his hand pierced a liquid-like veil that rippled off his touch. Then, his hand was gone, replaced by a strange feeling—as if the air felt colder wherever his missing hand was.
Head cocked, Cal pushed his arm further and further in until the rest of his body was swallowed by the translucent veil. A few seconds later, when nothing felt like it was missing or out of place, Cal opened his eyes, just to see Ray lying on the dirt as he tended to his bleeding nose.
With the prince accounted for, Cal looked back at the gate, where the lively kingdom still thrummed with life. He then looked around the forest, noting that it was indeed the same one he had seen outside of the gate, and that it also retained the same qualities as the outside—like the weather—even if the noise of Elda’s traffic was nonexistent.
“Ray? You okay?” Cal asked as he finally looked back at the prince.
Past the muffled rambling coming from beneath Ray’s covered mouth, the prince lifted a thumb into the air before he groggily rose and replaced his hand with a handkerchief. “I’m not going to lie… I should’ve seen that coming.”
He laughed and rubbed the back of his head after Cal helped him stand. Once he was upright and dusted himself off, Cal raised a brow. “What the hell was that?”
“The gate?” Ray questioned whilst wiping his nose. “It’s a bit of Reality and Illusion magic. With this ring, anyone wearing it can enter Aldera’s grounds. People who don’t, can’t; they also can’t see or hear anything that goes on within the academy and its grounds—and vice versa.”
“That’s… pretty amazing,” Cal mumbled, hand raised and eyes locked on the red gem within the ring.
Such magic existed, he partially knew, but to see it before his eyes was entirely different. There were many things he’d experienced in the last two weeks, ones he would have never even known existed back in Markstead: new towns, beautiful scenery, and unexplored magic. It was all so new—all so… refreshing.
Cal was slowly beginning to think that accepting Airetore’s offer wasn’t as horrible of a choice as he had expected.
“Yeah, I know,” Ray chuckled before his hands glowed a pale yellow.
“You know magic?” Cal asked.
Dirah had once told him that most noble children were forced to learn swordsmanship, magic, or both, at a young age. He probably could have assumed the same could be said for Ray without his confirmation, but it still took him by surprise that the prince was using Healing Magic, a magic he’d only seen on his few visits to Red Cove, where they possessed a single healer to close wounds, mend bones, and ease pain.
“Yup. Been learning it since I could read and write. Though it’s kind of a given, being the prince and all,” he said with a playful chuckle. “Still, it’s magic that I’ve come to love, especially compared to weapons and such.”
Walking down the stone brick path leading through the forest, Cal glanced at Ray, green eyes calm. “How come?”
The prince hummed for a moment, seemingly searching for an answer. He eventually looked up at the trees above, his countenance shifting to something akin to wistfulness. “You may or may not know, but my mother—the Queen of Elda—died four years ago. I won’t get into the details, but since I was young, my mother always aimed to raise me like any other child. Father disapproved of such teachings, always of the idea that I needed to learn how to be king and wield a sword, but Mother never stopped teaching me… never,” Ray explained, waving his hand in the air as colorful streams shot out, dancing playfully around his fingertips. He smiled. “Because it’s so ingrained in our everyday lives, most don’t understand just how liberating magic is. Compared to swordsmanship, where you’re forced to follow a certain style or method of fighting, magic allows you to do as you please. You can shoot lightning out of your hand, soar through the skies, and even create great waves of water. My mother always said, magic doesn’t allow for limits, for it is magic that keeps us from being the same person we were yesterday.”
“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Cal honestly expressed.
“Yeah… she was,” Ray spoke, voice detached as his eyes looked out into the distance.
With the conversation ending in a heavy silence, Cal decided to end the conversation and enjoy the serene ambiance of the woods, where trees and flowers flourished, and the sound of water from a creek running parallel to the path merged with the sounds of the many animals living in the campus’ strangely vast ecosystem. Cal could’ve sworn he was back in the woods surrounding Markstead, not the largest city within Wyze. Birds chirped in the trees, deer grazed in the woods, and there was even a creature he’d only read about in books, a Horned Driph.
The Horned Driph was almost like a dragon; however, they only got as long as two feet, and as tall as three. They crawled on their arms and legs, but attached to their back, were a set of wings. Unfortunately, the Horned Driph’s wings were simply too small to carry the slightly… chunky creatures, scaled and with fangs capable of slicing tree branches in two.
If there was any positive for the C-class creatures, it was that the somewhat pitiful omnivores were surprisingly quick, making the usually neutral monsters a worthy threat if provoked.
Nonetheless, the duo moved forth, and after a minute or so, another path broke off to the left of the trail, leading to what Ray called the Arena. It was a lofty structure, round in shape, and meant for several things: tournaments, official duels, and the occasional execution.
Ray explained that such things were public, and it was the only time the general population was allowed into Aldera. They weren’t common—all three; however, when they did occur, thousands would gather, some just to step foot onto Aldera’s revered campus. Furthermore, past the Arena was the first of four training fields. Elda’s ability to name things as simply as possible carried into the Academy District and Aldera as it was called Grounds One; the other fields spread throughout campus were dubbed Grounds Two, Three, and Four—respectively.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Continuing down a wide turn that ran along the edges of a small lake anointed, Lake Arthur, Cal began to see more and more students. The semester would start the next day, so most students seemed to be enjoying their last day before class under the sister suns. Some were in groups, simply laughing and smiling with one another, while others were messing around with magic or practicing in small clearings in the forest. There were even students sparring atop the smooth surface of Lake Arthur, their movements not disturbing the water one bit.
The idea that he was truly in a school of magic and knights became acutely known to Cal, but that became even more apparent once they crossed a bridge over another creek and the forest opened, revealing to Cal the sight of the one thing that brought him to Elda…
Aldera Academy.
It was unlike anything he had ever seen.
Beyond the Common District, crowded and never-ending; the Noble District, luxurious and prim; and even Markstead, modest and frankly insignificant—Aldera was anything but.
The academy sat atop an elevated hill—practically a cliff—which seemed unnecessary with its already daunting height, peaking well over fifteen stories tall at its tallest dark-red spires. The walls were made of a combination of gray stone and near-black marble, its many large windows reflecting the waning daylight while abundant vines grew around the base of the school—no, castle, only because of the many towers and battlements that adorned Aldera’s periphery, forcing upon one an aura of antiquity, grandeur, and also authority.
“Wow.”
Taken aback, so much so that his only reaction came out hushed, Cal blinked only once, too worried that he would fail to take in the full picture of the slumbering palace.
Ray smirked. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
Cal could only nod.
“It’s actually considered Elda’s ‘safe haven,’ so if there were an attack and the royal palace were to fall, Aldera would act as such in its place. That’s why it’s so fortified… and beautiful… That was what the first queen wanted it to be when she created Aldera and became the first headmaster,” Ray explained. “Though, that’s technically known to just a few, so keep that between us, okay?”
Cal hummed in acknowledgment before walking to the base of the cliff with a bit more enthusiasm, his desire to explore its interior just as large because of the mind-boggling exterior.
Along the hill, the stone paths and steps became somewhat winding as there were a handful of small ravines and creeks needing to be crossed by terrace bridges. The hill was nearly two hundred feet tall, making the last leg of the journey, not just the longest, but the most taxing. Nonetheless, Cal and Ray reached the final step, where they were instantly thrusted into a mystical garden full of plants and small insects and critters that Cal had never seen before. With Aldera’s base along the left, and the cliff to the right, shadows loomed over the garden, where bushes lined the path to the entrance. Between the pathway and the garden’s edges, statues and fountains watched over the abundant flowers and greenery beneath them, and as Cal took in the smell of flora, he and Ray reached the wide staircase at the end, leading to a pair of large double doors.
Once there, both boys breathed a sigh of relief before Ray looked at Cal. “You ready?”
Cal took a deep breath, looked at Ray, and then to the doors. Many thoughts—many more memories—flashed in his mind. His family, his home, his father, and the strength he lacked to protect it all… He was there for a reason, to become stronger for that which he cherished… and he had no intention of throwing that chance away.
Without looking at Ray, Cal raised his hands and pushed the doors to Aldera Academy open.
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“Wow! Who would’ve thought we’d be roommates, too, huh?” Ray beamed as the pair approached the door to what would be their new shared living space.
Cal realized that a heavy burden had fallen on his shoulders, one in the form of a bubbly prince with sky-blue eyes. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. Why did he have to bunk with a prince? Isn’t that dangerous? For him and the royal son? Wasn’t there a palace he could also stay in?
“Not me,” Cal grumbled, placing his hand on the doorknob and turning it.
Mirroring the recurring theme of Aldera’s interior, the walls incorporated a combination of stone and marble, creating a sort of dark, regal ambiance that matched well with Elda’s signature crimson shade, the hue showing up in the carpets, curtains, and lofty ceiling of the dorms and the rest of the academy.
To the left of the room’s door was a reading corner with both walls covered by filled bookshelves that soared to the ceiling, as well as a table with a few chairs around it. Continuing along the left side of the room and exceeding the bookshelves, two red velvet sofas and a black table were positioned perpendicular to an unlit fireplace, creating a relaxing living space. The center walkway, airy and welcoming, led to a pair of doors that opened to a decent-sized balcony. On the opposite side, two beds decorated with crimson canopies sat nestled between both boys’ wardrobes and bedside tables. A door between the bedside tables revealed the tiled washroom, where a shower rested on the left, and a sink and toilet settled on the right.
The dorm, large and cozy, was rather enchanting, but what mainly caught Cal’s attention was that the chest he brought with him sat in the middle of the room. Dante had told him that he would handle his belongings when they were first entering the city, but Cal had almost forgotten.
He felt some relief in the fact that he was reunited with his belongings.
For the next thirty minutes, Cal settled in. On the other hand, Ray had claimed the bed closest to the door by flinging his body on top of it. Then he started rolling around and brushing his arms against the incredibly soft fabric.
He was like a dog.
Opting to ignore the carefree prince, Cal emptied his chest of most of its contents, making sure to set his mother’s wrapped gift aside. By the time he had placed all his clothes in the wardrobe—eyes catching a glimpse of their school uniform—and placed all his books in the gaps of the bookshelf, Cal placed his trunk in the leftmost corner of the dorm next to the fireplace.
He lifted himself to his full height and sighed before looking over his shoulder. “When are you going to unpack?”
On his back, arms pointed to the ceiling, Ray brought his legs up and proceeded to throw them down, propelling himself forward to a seated position. He then rubbed the back of his head, a dumb expression on his face. “The servants will bring my stuff in tomorrow while we’re going through orientation.”
Cal scoffed, not out of indignation, but rather disbelief, still not used to being tied to someone of such power. There was still a pinch of envy in his action, however.
A soft breeze dragged Cal’s mind from such useless thoughts, though it also pulled him toward the room’s balcony. Leaning on the quartz banister, Cal gazed over the campus in front of him. Beneath him and Aldera’s West Wing, another small lake reflected Yanola and Vrexa’s evening luster. Surrounding it was a vast forest, but a handful of clearings dotted the woods, three of which consisted of the Arena and two of the training grounds. To the right was the continuation of the Sea of Picta, its tint beautifully opaque beneath the sky’s portrait.
Cal inhaled deeply and sighed as Ray leaned against the railing beside him, the voice he spoke with soft like the mid-summer breeze. “Why’d you come to Elda, Cal?”
Elbow propped and chin in hand, Cal glanced at the prince, apprehension delaying his response before he looked back over the forest below. “I want to protect my family.”
“That’s it?” Ray questioned, blonde brow raised in curiosity.
“Yeah.”
“So you don’t want to be an Eldan Knight, or a professor, or… anything?”
Cal shook his head. “No. The only thing that matters to me is my family’s safety. If they can live their lives in peace, then I’m content.”
“Hm, I suppose that’s admirable in itself. I still think you’d want to do something a bit more… out there,” Ray accentuated with the spread of his arms.
“Easy for you to say,” Cal muttered. “Your life is already set, getting to be king and all.”
Much to Cal’s surprise, the prince merely laughed. After a few seconds of confusion on Cal’s part, Ray turned to him with a boyish grin. “King? Who told you I wanted to be king?”
Befuddlement shone in Cal’s eyes. “You… don’t want to be king?”
“Never have, never will,” Ray said with a shrug. “It’s entrapment to the highest degree. Leading millions of souls, making decisions that can affect those very people’s lives, avoiding wars, and keeping peace—who wants to be chained to such burdens? No. I want to be free—as free as possible.”
“And how do you expect to achieve that?”
Ray smirked. “That, my friend, can be achieved by becoming the Erfum Mashum.”
Wasn’t that…
“That’s the highest rank a mage can reach, right?” Cal inquired.
Nodding, Ray clutched the banister and looked over the balcony, swaying back and forth until he looked back at Cal. “It might be a lot, but it’s my goal. To be a king is to be imprisoned, and I am no prisoner. I want to be the Erfum Mashum—the Eternal Mage. To know and understand every magic, to embrace it as my mother taught and father disavowed, I’ll never be the person I was yesterday… I’ll never be limited—just like she said.”
“How do you expect to become an Erfum Mashum though?” Cal questioned, admittedly nervous as the prince swayed too hard and nearly fell off the balcony.
The aforesaid righted himself and smiled bashfully. “Well… it’s actually never been achieved, though there have been two Ascendants—including Aldera’s first headmaster, my sixteenth great-grandmother. However…” Ray said before he rocked on the banister again, this time falling over, only to catch himself by flipping onto a platform of floating earth. He lifted himself and met Cal face-to-face with a confident smirk. “My name is Raymond Crim, and I’m an Elemental Paragon, Novice Manawright, and Master Sovereign—as well as history’s youngest Proversum. Five more classes to master, and that title is as good as mine, yeah?”
Cal stared wide-eyed at the prince, though the latter simply laughed.