Chapter 14 : Echoes of the Past

1200 years ago, before the land of Arumeni got her name, the region had just recovered from several calamities which had turned it barren and desolate. As the land healed, plants, creatures, and people returned to claim it.

Some 500km south of where Breccon would later be founded stood five men on an enormous flat topped earth mound.

"This thing oughta be nearly... an hour's walk across.", panted Iulon the Scholar, a heavy set man who was sweating and breathing heavily.

"For you maybe!", laughed Droddak the Warrior, loudly, casually dropping her backpack to the ground with a thud.

"It's not actually that tall, but the position up here is... say, wouldn't it make a nice place for a city, monument or temple?", mused Vellar the Wayfinder.

"Hah, to which god? They all abandoned this land, that's fer sure.", barked Skiarn the Craftsman.

"How about to us then?", chuckled Bardh the Rogue, before pointing off to the side. "Hey all, there's a strange little pond over there."

––o––

Arumeni's capital Fivesmound had stood unconquered for 1200 years. The city itself sprawled atop and around a 4 kilometre earthmound and was ringed by the 4 meter thick and 6 meter tall stone wall which had taken a century to build and was still continuously modified.

A perfectly circular park nearly a kilometre across decorated the flat top, defying at least the inward spread of the city. Dead centre in the park, and as if crowning the entire city, rose a pentagonal grand castle, it's corners towers each dedicated to one of the five founders. At the open centre of the castle laid a quint dried up well surrounded by five statues in mossy white stone. Frozen in time, they looked just as if they had stopped to take a break.

Scholars believed that the entire mound was an enormous mud geyser remnant which eventually it ran out of juice. Likely the spring would never return.

Fresh water was instead delivered up to the city via the grand aqueduct which shot out several kilometres west, past the city wall, above the city overspill and cultured fields, finally connecting to a rather clever pumping station at a nearby redirected river.

Inside the city, near where the aqueduct terminated at the edge of the park, stood the city's Grand Academy building. In an office on the third floor sat a middle-aged woman at a busy desk. Despite the cold outside and open windows, the woman had unbuttoned her the tight collar of her austere black uniform. Long naturally white hair, normally kept in a tidy bun, draped down over her padded shoulders and onto the papers on the desk.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

––o––

Zabelle took in a long breath, then yawned and massaged her eyebrows, trying to muster up another five minutes of focus. She had just about reached the bottom sediment of the midterm paperwork stack. There had only been seven new student applications. Four she had rejected, but this last one came with a curious letter of recommendation.

To: Madame Zabelle Zhukolyan of the Academy.

From: Maynor Rhemott, Acting City Lord or Breccon.

It's been a while, hasn't it? I still remember Tollbard's antics at our graduation party all those years ago! I hope everything is well with you, the academy, and our capital. I'm writing to you to recommend our young and talented city lord for a spot in this year's classes at a suitable grade. I think you'll find her quite adequate in all regards, and certainly able to pass the physical test with ease. The entrance fee of 30 silver naturally shouldn't be a problem for someone of her stature.

Best regards ~ Maynor.

Hold on? The shortie became the acting city lord of Breccon? Maynor had seemed somewhat clever back then, but lacked overall potential, in her judgement at least. His older brother had apparently been the talented one. Zabelle hadn't really kept up with the affairs and fates of her old classmates, always being busy with academy praepostor affairs.

She found the attached student application but didn't recognise the name. Zhoey... Garnet. Peculiar signature. Equally crude and elegant, just like the rest of the handwriting. She had barely filled in any of the fields, but truthfully the academy was always more interested in the practical tests, and collecting fees.

Zabelle looked at the applicant's address. Thamaworks, Ironroad 10-2. She raised an eyebrow, then looked at the charisma ring on her finger.

Wasn't that the place where she got this thing? The hastily renovated building where a new smith had suddenly opened up shop few weeks back? The smith was a mysterious powerful looking woman who could easily be a city lord. Zabelle had of course used gauge on her before making the 50 silver purchase.

The woman seemed to be in her late twenties or early thirties, but could be older. They had a few old geezers lingering at the academy, though it seemed unlikely that a competent smith would go back to school. She regretted not asking her name. Could it be Thama-something, like on the business sign? Likely this Zhoey was then the daughter or relative of the skilled smith, or perhaps a resident in the same building.

Zabelle looked over the application again and decided to approve the candidate for testing next week after the winter solstice break. Perhaps she could use her position as academy praepostor to get a rebate at Thamaworks and aqcuire that agility ring she wanted? The dual trait amulet would probably be forever out of her price range though.

Enchanted items were rather rare and difficult to create, apparently requiring a smith with the Greater Smith ability. To Zabelle's best knowledge there were only two such smiths alive in the entire country – one in the capital now, and then there was the grumpy old hermit up in the western mountains. Some countries had to make do with items created in the past, or expensive imports.

The effect from the enchantments – generally of the minor type – were far more useful at a lower level since they just added a little to certain traits rather than multiplying them like levels do. Still, every little bit counts Zabelle thought, even at level 22. Normal type enchantments were exceedingly rare and greater ones... well, that's the stuff of Saints and legends.

Zabelle have to keep an eye on this applicant, or rather, what she was wearing. Enchanted items were allowed in the tests so she'd no doubt show up wearing something interesting.