6 – Hungover Meridians and a Morning Brawl

A list of spells appeared beneath the message.

[Fireball] fire magic
[Root Bind] plant magic
[Leaf Dart] plant magic
[Healing Water] water magic
[Void Thread] void magic

That was all.

I opened my eyes, and the words disappeared. I closed them again, and there they were. I guess this is what the wizards meant by “the system.”

Since choosing my first spell seemed like a big decision, I decided to hold off on picking one, at least for now.

I got up, walked across my bedroom, and opened the door. In the main hall, the five wizards of Bluebell Tower were gathered around the dinner table. They abruptly stopped whatever it was they were talking about, and all turned to me.

Silence hung in the air. Myrl held a chicken wing suspended halfway to his mouth.

“I consolidated my orb,” I said.

Cheers exploded from the table. Bagavash got up so quickly that his chair fell over backward. He strode over and grasped both my shoulders in his hands. His grip was surprisingly strong for his old age.

“You’re a wizard, Mark,” he said with the utmost gravity. “Welcome to the Bluebell Tower.”

All I could think of to do was nod. I heard Linli say, “Pay up, you big oaf. I told you it would take him less than a week!”

Bagavash continued looking me in the eye a moment longer, not saying anything, but conveying something I couldn’t quite understand. Then he let go and pulled out my chair for me. I sat down, joining the others.

A moment later, Bagavash returned with a plate of chicken legs and wings tossed in some aromatic herbs.

“Ye did it, lad,” Erl said, his deep voice reverberating off the stone walls. “Took me nearly a month of ponderin’. Ye did it in three days.”

“That’s nothing,” Linli said, puffing out his chest. “I consolidated my orb in a single afternoon.”

“WE KNOW,” the other wizards said in unison.

All except Senior Archmage Alynur, who just stared at me with a mysterious twinkle in his eye.

“Well, I think this is an occasion that calls for some ale…” Myrl said sheepishly, turning his eyes toward the Senior Archmage.

The room went silent, and everyone else turned to him expectantly.

“Oh, all right,” he said at last.

There were more cheers at this, and Linli went to fetch the tankards.

“But this is the last ale we’re having until the Beltane Festival!” he continued. “All this ale is going to weaken our meridians.”

I turned to Bagavash with a curious glance.

“I’ll explain it all tomorrow,” Bagavash said. “Tonight, we eat!”

The chicken was greasy and tender and simply fell apart in my mouth. I was so hungry that they brought me seconds. At some point, Linli asked, “So, which spell did you pick?”

“I, uh, haven’t picked one yet,” I said. “I got five options, but I figured I should ask you guys before I picked one.”

“Wise lad,” Erl said, nodding his head sagely.

“What were the choices?” Myrl asked, leaning in closer.

“Let me check,” I said.

I closed my eyes and tried to get back into that meditative state. It was easier now that I had been practicing for the last three days. As I settled into it, the words reappeared.

I listed off the spell choices to my fellow wizards.

“[Fireball] is the obvious choice,” Erl said. “It’s the classic starting spell for new wizards.”

“You’re only saying that because all you use is [Fireball],” Linli retorted. “He doesn’t even have a fire affinity, remember? [Root Bind] is the clear choice. At such a low level, he’ll need to slow his enemies down in order to kill them.”

“[Leaf Dart] is one of my go-to offensive spells,” Myrl said. “I could teach you how to use it.”

“Gentlemen,” Bagavash interrupted. “You’re forgetting that the boy’s highest affinity is in void magic. If he wants to make the strongest foundation for his future build, he should choose [Void Thread].”

The table went silent. Myrl sipped at his ale nervously.

“But none of us know what void magic will do,” Linli said. “It could be dangerous giving that spell to someone so inexperienced.”

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“The boy’s choice is his and his alone,” Senior Archmage Alynur interrupted with surprising finality.

“Aye, ’tis right,” Erl said.

“Whichever spell you pick,” Alynur continued, “we can help you train with it. There is no wrong choice.”

We finished our dinner in general good humor, then everyone retired to their respective quarters. Myrl’s room was on the second floor, and the other wizards were even further up the spiral staircase that wrapped around the main chamber, with Archmage Alynur ascending all the way to the top.

I wondered how a man of his age managed to climb those stairs every day of his life.

Before I fell asleep, I closed my eyes and looked at the list one last time.

“I choose [Void Thread],” I said aloud. The other spell choices faded away, and [Void Thread] floated up, anchoring itself firmly beneath my mana stats.

I stared at it there for a long while before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I was awoken by a large crash.

I jolted up in bed and ran over to the window. At first, I thought the tower was being attacked, but when I peered around the edge of the window, I saw a dusty tract of land where the wizards were sparring.

Dawn was only just peaking over the horizon, and they were all out there, shirtless, fighting with each other with surprising dexterity.

A moment later, Bagavash appeared in my doorway, covered in sweat. “Ready for your first day of training?”

These wizards were surprisingly buff for old guys. As I joined them on the sparring grounds, Linli sent a flying kick into Myrl’s six pack, sending the skinny wizard crashing into the side of the tower, knocking several stones loose. Meanwhile, Erl was practicing some kind of solo attack progression, lashing out at the air with fists and knees so fast that it produced small concussive shockwaves.