“… Each of you will begin your training in the art of finding ley lines, which are places of power, for those of you that did not pay attention to your instructors. Ley lines are where your abilities can be amplified if you are ever in a bind.”

A student raises their hand, and Madam Lucero points at them.

“When will we ever find ourselves in a bind?”

A small group at the front of the class begin snickering, while the rest of us grumble. Madam Lucero returns her attention to the class, and continues to her lecture.

“You could find yourself in a bind if you’re like this student. What is your name?” She turns to the student that asked the question.

“Lyons, Madam.”

“Lyons. Lyons, here, thinks they’re completely safe from those that will do them harm, because mother and father have always paid off their problems. Unfortunately, orcs, goblins, and other harmful creatures cannot be paid off, and roam the roads they travel by. I’m not threatening you, but you should know that one day you may need a ley line to help you defend yourself. Or if you wish to catch a glimpse into the future to see if your partner is cheating on you. Or if you want to summon a creature for whatever reason.”

The instructor walks around the room passing out various objects; Trinkets, stones, pieces of glass.

“I’ve placed before you an object that comes from a sacred place. Today’s assignment is to try to sense the energies contained within it. This will assist in helping you locate ley lines in the near future when we go out on the field in search of them, which will make up the majority of your final grade. Let’s begin.”

A rough stone with a line going roughly down the center has been placed on my desk. I flip it around several times in my hands, feeling nothing from it except the roughness and heaviness of it.

“Oh!” Exclaims a student. “I can sense it! It’s very powerful, whatever it is!”

Excited whispers spread through the class.

“It was gifted to the Academy long before my time. Try to guess what it is. That is usually the most difficult task.”

“Uh… Madam?” It’s the same student from earlier.

“Yes?”

“Why would…?” He mumbles the rest too quietly for anyone to hear.

“Ley lines, much like your abilities, contain the essence of specific elements. Finding one that matches your own element, will greatly multiply your already enhanced abilities. While the source of ley lines is extremely powerful, you can come across others, hence ‘lines’. The ‘lines’ usually connect two sacred places together. Naturally, the further apart they are, the weaker the lines, but any enhancement to your abilities is still beneficial.”

The instructor walks over to another student that claims they can sense the powers from the objects before them.

“I can sense it now, too!” Shouts another student.

The other students ooh and ahh, struggling to focus on their work from all the excitement. I stare at the stone in my hand, trying to feel anything that will indicate the object has magic in it, and groan in frustration as several other students leave after completing their assignment. This is my last class of the day, and I’m ready to get to the potions shop, and allow my mind to go numb with tedious chores after being so busy.

“Selene, please!” Shouts a voice so loudly, I drop the stone from fright.

Glancing around frantically, I search for the source of the voice.

“Careful!” Madam Lucero cries out. “I cannot get another of any of these objects.”

A few of the students giggle, and turn shyly away from me.

“Sorry,” I mumble out.

I touch the stone again, and my body freezes in place.

“Selene, please, let us discuss this!”

A beautiful woman appears from behind the trunk of a white tree, her skin is white as snow, her hair black as the night sky, and her eyes are startling dark and empty.

“Sol! We cannot. I will not abandon our child!” She cries, walking away, being followed by a handsome man, his hair golden, his skin dark and smooth, and his eyes like bright embers of flame.

“I got it,” mutters another student, sounding relieved, and making his exit.

I stare around the room. There’s no one else left except my instructor who sits at her desk at the head of the classroom, reading a book through a pair of half circle spectacles.

“I’m sorry,” I grumble.

“Take your time. This is not unexpected.”

“Uh… is this stone from a temple? Sol’s? Selene’s?”

“Indeed! It’s from Selene’s temple” The instructor looks up from her book, removing her spectacles. “Excellent job! What is your name?”

“It’s Luna.”

“Luna. Well,” she sighs, shutting her book. “You may go. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Thank you, Madam Lucero.”

I wander the halls of the Academy, trailing my hands along the stones of the walls, excitedly imagining the love story of Selene and Sol now that I have a better idea of what they might have looked like. I could never have imagined such beauty. But what could they have been arguing about? Why would they need to abandon Gaia? Will the other gods not accept her as one of their own?

Once in the dining hall, I stuff myself with dinner, and race towards the potions shop. As I make my way through the busy streets, images of Selene, and Sol in love and looking forward to the birth of Gaia dance through my mind.

When I reach the shop, I unsuccessfully try to hide the disappointment on my face when I see Arthur is already here chatting with Madam Treeleaf, and he grins when he notices.

“Luna, welcome. I have some berries which are to be crushed, placed in a pot to boil, then poured through a fine meshed sieve into a decanter.”

“Yes, Madam Treeleaf,” I say, as I enter the rear room of the shop, to put on an apron.

“The rest of your tasks are on the list. Arthur, I must run to the bakery, and drop off an elixir. Keep an eye on the shop for me, will you?”

“Yes, Madam Lyra. I’ll be sure your apprentice does her work properly.”

I huff in annoyance.

“Luna!” She calls out to me. “When you’re done, remember to label the bottles.”

“Yes, Madam Treeleaf.”

I hear the bell at the front door ring when she leaves.

“I’m in charge of you, did you hear?” Asks Arthur.

“No, Sir Lynn. I heard you’re in charge of the shop.”

He tuts, and saunters into the back room of the shop, with a playful look on his face, and his arms crossed over his chest.

“You level two Mystics have gotten so disrespectful lately.”

“Probably,” I say, absently crushing away the berries, resisting the bait he’s laid out for me, trying not to make eye contact.

“Do you know what those are for?”

“Not really,” I shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Those are for resilience. It helps those who have been poisoned. It’s a minor potion, not very strong, but it’s very common, and excellent for preventing the spread of the poison.”

“What potion is used when this doesn’t work?”

“You’re making it. The fermentation makes it more potent, and quite disgusting. Like drinking spoiled wine. It has many side-effects, so it must be given in small doses over the course of several days for maximum efficiency, and minimal discomfort to the user. You just can’t remain too far from a toilet.”

“Bleh,” I shudder at the thought. “That sounds awful.”

“Awful, but useful. Did Lucien take you outside the city to watch the lanterns flow down the river? Is that where the two of you disappeared to last night after the ceremony?”

I look up from my work, at his fox-like grin, taking the bait.

“He did,” I state, curtly, returning to my work.

“He’s always such a romantic. Was there that one lantern that went on and on till the falls at the end?”

“There were two,” I mutter quietly, pretending to be heavily focused on my task.

“Oh, he must have been thrilled. He always dreaded that one lantern being left all alone for so long. I guess someone has found true love,” he teases.

I pour the pulpy mixture into a boiling pot, being heated by a small paper enchantment. Some of the water splashes out, hissing when it hits the ground. I take another handful of berries, while Arthur watches me, making me uneasy. Happiness rushes me, when I hear the ring of the bell at the front of the shop.

“Welcome, fine sir and madam,” greets Arthur. “What sort of potion can I get for you?… What type of ailment?… I don’t believe we have anything for you at the moment. How long have you had symptoms?… Oh! Congratulations!… Let’s see… I can give you… here you go. That’ll be five copper coins, please. I’ve made a note letting Madam know you dropped by with a request. Have a wonderful evening.”

The bell rings again as the patrons exit. I can hear Arthur drop the coins into a pile, where Madam Treeleaf keeps the shop’s funds in a small wooden box. The box sits on an enchanted shelf beneath the front counter, hidden from sight. Arthur reenters the back room, and watches me.

“I’m sorry, are you just going to stare like a pervert?” I ask, irritably, getting uncomfortable.

“No, you’re just doing such a fine job, I’m just admiring your work. I wouldn’t dare ruin your flawless routine. I might recommend you chop up some of the pulp before putting them in the sieve, to make your work easier, though.”

I place the pulping mixture onto the wooden table, and chop it up with a cleaver, being sure to do it aggressively. He remains unfazed.

“So, there were two lanterns this year, you say?” He asks, approaching me.

“Yes,” I sigh, exasperated.

“Funny, that should happen the first year you’re here.”

“Or Gaia changed fate,” I splash the berry pulp into the pot, and grab another handful. “How do you know Madam Treeleaf?”

I might as well try to make polite conversation, since he cannot be dissuaded from speaking with me.

“When my father was a more active Mystic, she was the healer of his company. She must have saved his life hundreds of times. She’s also a Legendary level Mystic, in case you wondered.”

“That means-”

“Yes, she’s been blessed with the Elixir of Immortality, and holds a very high status.”

“That’s amazing. I wonder how long it took. I’ve always imagined it to be some impossible task.”

“I wonder why she chooses to run a small potions shop in the City of Lights with all that power. She could make a fortune standing by a king’s side, instead of selling potions to common folk. Not to mention the many spells she could write, and her studies on potion making.”

“I'm ‘common folk’,” I mutter.

“Sorry,” he hisses. “I’m not used to-”

“Being polite?”

“Speaking to an intelligent peasant-”

“That’s definitely not a better way of putting it.”

The shop bell rings once more.

“Welcome, fine sir,” he greets, cheerfully. “What sort of potion can I get for you?… I see. I believe we have something for that. Would a hair tonic suffice?… Very good. Take one drop of it every day until it runs out… Yes… No… Uh, definitely not, please don’t try that… It will not restore your original color, so if you had gray hair… I’m afraid not, but I’m sure she won’t mind… How old, you say?… I see, good for you, Sir! That will be one silver coin, please. Thank you, sir. Good luck.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

I hear some coins drop into the wooden box.

“Your change, sir. Have a good evening.”

I let the pot of berry juice thicken until the mixture becomes dark and coats the back of the wooden spoon I’m using to stir it. When it resembles a thick soup, I pull the slip of paper with a fire enchantment off the pot, and check the concoction for brightness in color. Using two wooden slabs as a cooling rack, I balance the pot over them.

Stirring it constantly so that the mixture won’t separate as it cools, I watch the steam tendrils wisp into the air, and disappear. Is this what the birth of a star would look like to a god? There one moment and gone the next?

The bell rings once again before Arthur can reenter the back room, and he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Lucien!” Arthur greets. “Are you here to see Luna?”

I feel my cheeks burn. Why would he ask something so ridiculous?

“Luna’s here?” Inquires Lucien, his voice soft.

“Yes, she works here.”

“Is that why you’re here? Why couldn’t you just let her be?” He asks, exasperated.

I feel my heart sinking, wishing Arthur wouldn’t annoy him so.

“Good day, Lucien!” I call out, trying to sound cheerful.

“Good day, Luna,” he calls back. “I hope Arthur is behaving himself.”

“Of course he isn’t,” I say cheerfully.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

After getting to my feet, I stretch, feeling aches in my body from having sat for too long. I approach the front of the shop, where Lucien now stands, with a smile at the ready for when he sees me.

“What brings you here?” I ask, politely.

“Lucien always comes here with head pain,” responds Arthur.

“I can’t imagine why,” I tease, walking over to the shelf where Madam Treeleaf keeps the healing tonics. “Is it your hearing? A soothing tonic, maybe?”

I scan the sea of bottles lining the shelves with labels written in Madam Treeleaf’s small flowing lettering.

“Yes,” says Lucien, quietly, trying to remain respectful.

“Three copper, sir,” says Arthur, holding out a hand to him.

“Right,” says Lucien, rifling through his coin purse.

When I find the bottles labeled Minor Soothing Tonics, I hear the coins drop into the wooden box.

“Here you are, sir,” I say in my most formal voice, handing over the bottle.

“Thank you, Lu- Miss.”

He walks out of the shop, and I’m not sure if I missed him or if it’s just that I prefer his company over Arthur’s. I follow him as he walks outside, through the window, then rest my elbows on the front counter, and sigh when I notice Arthur is giving me a mischievous look.

“Whatever you’re thinking, no,” I mutter the second his mouth opens to speak.

“You didn’t even let me-.”

“I don’t need to hear you speak. I know you’re going to say something that’s going to make me angry based solely on the look you have on your face. It’s the same look you use when you are about to enjoy the misery of those around you, mainly Lucien.”

The bell rings as Madam Treeleaf walks in, carrying a small basket in her arms that’s filling the air with sweet, tantalizing aromas.

“Well, they were very grateful for the elixir. It worked almost immediately,” she sighs contentedly at the door. “Luna, Arthur, help yourselves.”

I stare at the steaming basket, and my stomach growls.

“Tea?” Asks Madam Treeleaf, disappearing into the back room.

“Yes, please!” Responds Arthur.

“Yes, please,” I say politely.

“Luna! You did so much already. Thank you,” she says, when she steps through the threshold of the door.

“You’re welcome, Madam Treeleaf.”

I nibble on a meat pie, and take a cautious sip of tea. The previously boiling pot of berries I’ve prepared is now cool, and I scoop the mixture into a large glass jar with a cloth filter over the top of it, clearing away the remaining pulp into another container to be processed later. Arthur and Madam Treeleaf are chit chatting at the front of the shop as they organize the potions lining the shelves.

“Lucien was here earlier. You missed him by just a few minutes,” mentions Arthur.

“Oh, what a shame. Do greet him for me.”

“Of course. I’m certain he’ll be returning soon about the apprenticeship.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“There’s… an incentive.”

“An incentive?”

“Yes. He’ll have a pretty face to admire while he works.”

My cheeks warm, and I know he’s just flattering Madam Treeleaf, but I thought he was talking about me.

Madam Treeleaf laughs. “You’re such a flatterer. You’re going to get yourself in trouble one day.”

At the day’s end, when the jar is filled to the brim, and the remaining pulp is distilled and stored in a smaller jar, I complete my labels, make a few quick notes in my book, and collect my cloak from a hook by the back door.

“I shall be going now, Madam Treeleaf,” I say, with a slight bow.

“Thank you for your help, Luna,” she says, as she counts the coins collected in her small wooden box. “You did an excellent job today.”

“Wait there,” calls Arthur, disappearing to the back room, and returning without his apron. “I’ll walk you back to the Academy.”

“Such a gentleman,” comments Madam Treeleaf.

“I have no interest in you, Arthur.”

“You know, Luna, I guarantee Lucien will take the position, and you might not see me as often.”

“Well, thank the gods for that, but I wouldn’t have to see you at all if you didn’t just mind your own.”

“Madam Treeleaf has always needed more than one apprentice. I always show up when classes begin at that Academy to make sure she has all the help she needs while she transitions to her new apprentices. I didn’t think she’d hire you so quickly. She must see something in you.”

“I do what I can.”

“That’s the best you can do.”

“Why are you being so nice?”

“You and I are going to be good friends soon.”

“Oh, really? What in Gaia’s name makes you think that?”

“Lucien will be the common denominator.”

“Oh? You think I’ll be friends with Lucien?”

“I think you’ll be more than friends with Lucien.”

I scoff. “Stop talking, now. I have no interest.”

“Because he’s a dark elf?”

“No, you idiot. Because he’s friends with you.”

When I return to the Academy, I make my way to the dining hall to add more detailed notes to my book. Someone takes a seat next to me, and I glare, expecting it to be Arthur, where Lucien now sits. He laughs at me when he notices my look of irritation.

“Sorry, he’ll be here soon. Best make your escape while you can,” he warns.

“Oh, hello, Lucien,” I say, pleasantly surprised. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you.”

“Good to hear.”

We sit in awkward silence for some time, and Arthur eventually joins us. He complains loudly about his month of classes and most everything else. Nothing else exists as Lucien and I sneak shy glances at each other, and make faces at each other in reaction to Arthur’s tales, mostly making fun of him. If Marcellus were here now, he’d be furious.

“Goodnight,” I announce, when Arthur finally stops talking long enough. “I have to study a bit.”

“Study what?” Asks Arthur, irritably. “I thought you finished writing in your journal while you were in the shop.”

“I’m trying to make notes of the potions I made. I didn’t have as much time for that, but I think it’ll help me.”

“How can you be so smart, and struggle with potions? It’s just a list of instructions and ingredients, like cooking.”

“I get distracted…”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t be working in a potions shop.”

Lucien’s body tenses, and reflexively reaches for my hand beneath the table, out of Arthur’s sight. He squeezes it tightly, needing more comfort from Arthur’s jabs at me than I do.

“Well, it’ll be beneficial for me. Madam Treeleaf said she would help me,” I reply, calmly, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands around mine.

Lucien eases his grip, and runs his thumb over my knuckles in a soothing manner, but I’m still unable to determine if he’s trying to comfort me or himself. The feeling of it is strange to me, but I don’t want him to let go. I rarely held hands with Marcellus, and when I did, it wasn’t for the sake of holding hands, but for guiding him through the dark forest, or for him to help me down from a high ledge.

“What about you, Arthur? You didn’t go to Madam Treeleaf’s shop in order to learn potions, did you?” Scolds Lucien.

“Goodnight, you two,” I say, collecting my things.

I make my way back to my room, and tiptoe inside. None of the lights are on, and I can hear the others sleeping soundly.

Lysander Hawthorn is my instructor for Healing and Restoration classes, and extremely charming. The delicate yet firm tone of his voice is enough for me to hang on his every word. I try to resist the urge to volunteer for every single one of his demonstrations, but my resolve is weakening each time he calls on one of the other students.

“Miss Luna?”

I stand at attention when he says my name.

“If I have a crystal vial, a very common item amongst most travelers, what will I need to perform a Rite of Renewed Vitality?”

“Purified water!” Shouts one of the students.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I thought your name was Elysia.”

“Sorry, Professor Hawthorn.”

“Luna, is Elysia correct?”

I nod.

“And what else would one need to complete the ritual?”

“Pure light, such as unobscured moonlight or sunlight, and a white silk cloth.”

“Correct. Excellent job, Luna.”

I smile brightly.

“Lucien, you’re next. The Harmonic Resonance of Restoration.”

I search for Lucien, spotting him on the opposite side of the classroom.

“A soft instrument, such as a flute, or a chime. Crystal bowl, dim lighting, and…” Our eyes meet, and he seems momentarily distracted.

“And?” Hawthorn challenges.

“Something soft smelling, like flowers, to ease the mind.”

“Excellent.”

I catch up with Lucien in the halls, carrying everything in my hands in my haste to speak with him.

“Lucien!” I call out.

He searches the crowds for me, and I wave my hand frantically, spilling my things in the process. He rushes over to me, and immediately begins to help me clean up.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” I say, frantically gathering up my notes.

“Luna. You’re in the same class,” he smiles as he hands me a stacked pile of papers.

“I am. I didn’t notice you at all this whole time!”

“I like to hide at the back of the classroom. It makes… others feel more comfortable.”

“I can sit with you.”

“No, it’s alri-”

“I could probably find you in all my classes, couldn’t I?”

“Yes. All level one students have the same schedule.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t even notice. I also didn’t realize there would be so few Mystics at the Academy. I saw the outside of school and thought there’d be hundreds of students! But it’s just a handful.”

I tuck my things into my bag, and get to my feet.

“Yes, there used to be many more when the Academy was first created, but abilities amongst the humans seems to be dwindling, hence the giving of the potion of immortality. Amith is in need of healers, builders, soldiers to fight off the orcs, goblins, and other dangerous creatures. Your abilities are a rare commodity, and if you’re powerful enough, you’re worth keeping around.”

“What’s our next class?”

“Mystical History and Lore.”

“Oh, that.”

“You don’t sound terribly excited.”

“Well, Professor Raven’s voice lulls me to sleep, and what’s the point of learning about lost spells if they haven’t been found? I want to learn more about artifacts, and the cultures of Amith. Preferably Dark Grove.”

“Why there, specifically?”

“So you’ll think I’m interested in you.”

“Are you?”

“Very much so, but I am also interested in Dark Grove, so don’t get too excited.”

“I’ll try not to,” he snickers.

The next day, after my classes and work at the potions shop, I sit in the dining hall, writing down what I’d learned from Madam Treeleaf about the perfect temperature for making a healing draught, as I eat my dinner, being careful not to spill anything. I’ve mixed my writings with my notes on Wards and Protections for shrines, temples and other holy structures from my day’s reading assignment.

“Good evening, Luna,” greets Lucien, taking a seat next to me, and opening up a book.

His presence instantly improves my mood, and makes me smile.

“Good evening, Lucien. How was your day?”

“It went well, though there are a few spells I’m struggling with.”

“Which ones?” I ask, peering over his shoulder, scanning spells I’ve never seen before. “Casting shadows?”

He leans closer to me, much to my delight, granting me a better view of his book. I’m quickly drunk off the intoxicating smell of his hair, and fight the urge to bury my nose into the nape of his neck.

“Yes. It projects a shadow on the ground as a distraction. I need to find someone who can better help me learn these.”

“I… definitely cannot help you with that, then.”

“Well, you could. Spell casting is the same, whether you can cast the spell or not. It’s just a series of hand motions and instructions.”

“True,” I say, reading the steps more closely. “So, let’s see it.”

“Well,” he says, with a smile, taking a bite of his food. “I can’t do it correctly. I’m not sure where I’m failing.”

“Just show me. Like you said, if they’re just a series of motions, I might be able to see what you’re doing wrong. At least if it’s just your hands, you can easily correct it.”

“Right,” he says, putting down his utensils in preparation for demonstrating.

He skims through the page, copying the hand motions pictured in the diagrams. The waving of his hands reminds me of wind and water spells with more pauses in between each step.

“I see your problem immediately. You’re stopping too many times… I think. I’m lying. I don’t know anything about this.”

I follow the hand diagrams on the page, and when I reach the final diagram, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and flinch away from it.

“Sorry. Good evening, Luna. Lucien. Lous.”

“No,” I mutter.

“Arthur,” says Lucien, sounding a bit cheerier. “How are your classes going? Still as awful as they were yesterday?”

“Of course. What spell were you casting? It didn’t look like wind magic. All of you usually look like you’re tossing things towards the skies when you cast spells.”

“I was just following the spell diagrams in Lucien’s book for a spell he’s struggling with.”

“Oh, trying dark magic? Let’s see it,” he commands, setting down his plate, and giving me his full attention. “Should be good for a laugh.”

“I can’t do dark magic, so it won’t work, of course,” I huff.

“No, of course not, but even I could follow a spell diagram correctly,” he says, pulling Lucien’s book closer.

Lucien and I share a knowing glance.

“Um…” I mutter nervously, following the diagrams. “Something like this…”

When I complete the spell, I stare up at Lucien nervously.

“That was helpful,” he reassures me.

I finish my dinner quietly, and Lucien eyes me the whole time, nodding and laughing at all the right times as Arthur speaks endlessly about an encounter with one of his instructors. His stare makes me inexplicably nervous.

I stand, and say my good nights the moment my plate is empty. Walking away quickly, unsure where to escape to, I wander the halls, eventually making my way to the library. I set my book down, and open it to a random page I’d written in; a recipe for a soothing tonic. My nerves calm as I read over the recipe several times, reciting the familiar instructions over and over.

“Luna,” whispers Lucien into my ear.

I flinch in my seat, and look over at him, my nerves immediately on edge again.

“Yes?” I ask, slightly panicked.

“Thank you for your help.”

“You’re… welcome,” I smile nervously.

“Have a good night.”

“G-Good night, Lucien.”