Chapter 40: Answers

My studies on nonhumans have finally proven fruitful. In a Dralk tribe, far to the north, they practice a magic where they cultivate their internal mana into something magnificent. I am excited to explore this new avenue of magic known as “cultivation”.

• Strange and Unusual Magics by High Mage Artus

The Stronghold is a thriving city in and of itself. Loud voices call out to each other near the entrance. Merchants, recruiting expedition teams. Explorers, preparing for their own adventures into the unknown.

A guardhouse stands tall immediately inside the walls, larger than any intact building I’ve seen, a whopping three stories tall.

Men and women train in the front courtyard, sparring and preparing themselves for the next possible attack on the bastion of humanity.

I notice as people look at me, making note of my green hair, and moving out of our party’s path.

“Alright, you three have been here before. Where’s the nearest inn?” I ask, looking over as merchants call out to us asking about the journey.

Libby and Grildor look over to Daron. The young man purses his lips, as he looks over the street. “This way, if I remember correctly.”

He turns with confidence, and our group falls into step behind him.

Keve and Tanya both receive strange looks from the surrounding people as we walk. The group surrounds Tanya naturally, protecting the nervous girl from the attention.

We’re led to a regular looking inn, and the proprietor doesn’t take more than a glance at us before telling us prices.

I don’t haggle, since I have more than enough funds to cover it.

***

The Arcanist’s building is larger even than the guardhouse, a palace in and of itself. A wide staircase lead up to two large stone doors, carved with runes to the point I can’t read them all. Vines climb up the walls, almost artful in their placement.

A couple of younger mages step out of the doors, wearing large gray robes with the symbol of the sun on their back. The symbol of the Arcanists. At the very least, the thick material of the robes must be nice in this cold weather.

They stare at me as they pass by, then whisper something out of earshot.

I don’t pay them any mind as I make my way up the staircase, my feet crunching in the thin layer of snow. I open the doors and pause at the entryway, taking in the place. It’s like seeing one of my delves before it becomes a ruin.

The inside of the place is quiet, hushed whispers traveling across a marble floor. Everywhere is polished and clean, and a fountain burbles in the corner.

My gaze is drawn to a young woman near the back, working at a desk. As a mage, and as a lord, I have power I didn’t have before. I could find my answers, learn why my family was banished, who my parents were… I step forward, ready to greet her, when a voice calls out to me.

“Leo?”

I pause, and turn into a pair of beautiful sky-blue eyes. She wears an intricate long blue robe, with half-moons placed on each arm.

Eyla stares at me in confusion, then dawning realization and horror. She grabs my arm, and turns me away from the desk as she pulls me towards the corner. “What are you doing here?”

I glance back towards the woman at the desk, but let her pull me. “Looking for your master.”

“The De’Vereth are on the opposite side of the city.” She stares at my hair, “Why do you look like that? You know impersonating a…” She lowers her voice to the tiniest of whispers, “mage is punishable by death.”

I knew that, but I’m not exactly impersonating one, just lying about my specialty. “I need to see Master Lorn.”

Eyla hesitates, then nods, “Follow me, you stick out like black fur in the snow.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She doesn’t answer as she walks towards the exit, so I fall into step with her. She looks me up and down, and shakes her head as she tries to hide a smile, “You look like you just came in from the frontier, and everyone here is going to notice.”

I look down at my simple brown shirt, legging, and boots, one of my nicer pairs if I’m honest. But you can’t go wrong with a good pair of boots.

Then I look over to Eyla, who’s wearing an intricately embroidered robe, has silver slippers that sparkle in the light, and hair that has two silver pins holding it up.

It’s a great reminder that I would’ve made a terrible rogue. I’m not the best at blending in.

We step out the doors, and immediately come face to face with a young man with hair so red, it’s practically scarlet. Two other men stand slightly back, swords at their waist.

“Eyla?” His gaze turns to me, going up and down my outfit with a frown, “Who’s this?”

Eyla steps in front of me ever so slightly, a guarded expression that I’d never seen covering her face. “Someone I met in Onder.”

His dark brown eyes narrow at me, “I don’t recognize you.”

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Eyla opens her mouth, but I place a hand on her arm, then bow to my head to the man, like I would a fellow Acolyte at the temple. “I am Leo, from Kolas’s Stronghold to the East.”

He gives the smallest incline of his head, “From the east? New to the Arcanists then.” his eyes flicker to Eyla. “What business do you have with the De’Vereth?”

“I was meeting with Master Taycor, when I saw Leo by chance.” Eyla smiled, a calculated expression that held no real emotion to it. “Master Lorn had expressed interest in seeing him again.” The man opens his mouth, but she continues before he can say anything, “If you want to know why, you can ask my master.”

The man frowns ever so slightly, “I see. I do hope to see you later, Eyla.” He glances at me, then continues to walk into the building.