11th of Inandyl - 2nd Velron

  The day is too bright and sunny to stay indoors with dusty old tomes and study. So I call for Chou to sit on my shoulder to get some air. I make sure to let Cira know before we leave but she only waves to us as we go, her mind preoccupied with the book she is reading in preparation for her mock exams.

  I start by wandering the outer corridors on the eastern side of campus where the sun is strongest, but I stay mostly under the awnings so the wind doesn’t blow Chou off my shoulder. I take note and promise her that I will wear a scarf for her to hold onto next time. Even with the wind, the day is unusually warm for early Inandyl in the mountains and I bask in the first hints of Verdelune to come. When we reach the eastern pathways, I pause and Chou looks at me questioningly.

  I mutter under my breath so only she can hear. “I know it’s silly to be anxious about wandering about, but you remember the code, right?”

  Chou trills in my ear excitedly, “Brrree! Yes!”

  “Ok. Since I’m in good hands, or wings rather, let’s move on. I’ve never been to this side of the grounds before.” I smile even though I still feel a slight trepidation.

  My feet still move with apprehension, though, as there are no awnings in the far courtyard to give the illusion of protection in the unknown space. The sun is the only beacon of warmth and comfort that spurs me on. All this anxiety is misplaced as we reach the edge of campus with its stone barriers chest high around the perimeter, barring us from a free fall of what looks to be several hundred feet. It is not much later that we find a long bridge like a walkway. On the other side, I can see a tall spire which overlooks the mountains above and the town below. “I bet that view is pretty…” I mutter more to myself than Chou but she trills in excited agreement.

  A surge of confidence compels me to investigate or maybe just the motivation of having a destination, I start to make my way across the wide expanse of the stone bridge. The wind is much stronger on the bridge and I pop up the collar of my cloak to protect Chou from being dragged away by the heavy gusts. She clings to me with anxious trills and so I jog the rest of the way to the tall spire, if for no other reason than to calm Chou’s gentle, mana-filled heart.

  I duck into the doorway of the spire entrance where the wind is less oppressive. Once there, I check on Chou who is nestled firmly in the crook of my neck, her spindly legs clinging to my collar for dear life. I make soft cooing sounds in an attempt to soothe the wild fear that has consumed her. It is not lost on me that this is another oddity about her.

  If she were truly just another piece of Arcanum, even an ancient piece as the professor suggested, it is unlikely that she would have these emotionally charged reactions. Having a ‘danger sense’ at all is a more sentient trait of things that are living, isn’t it?

  I think on these things as I try the heavy cast iron handle mechanism on the thick and aged wooden door. It gives way more easily than I expected and I rush into the windless interior of the spire. It is only then that I can hear Chou’s fearful, vibrating sounds and I murmur soothingly to her once more while I take in the quiet confines of the eastern most spire.

  The sunlight streams through oblong windows which are staggered and stacked to a dizzying height. A singular stone spiral staircase winds around the circular interior walls and drifts out of sight at what I can only guess is a second floor. While the spire does appear to be deserted from the dust floating in the sun beams, the light gives it an almost cheerful, if desolate, seeming to the otherwise dreary space.

  A smile crosses my lips as Chou peeks out from her hiding place in my collar, her vibrations becoming a more even pace. She flutters around me as I climb the winding stair with an enthusiastic energy. At the top, we find what looks to be an abandoned office, complete with an empty bookshelf and dust covered desk with a lamp. The space itself is nearly the entire width of the tower itself with a half dozen or more of the same oblong window cutouts, covering the whole space in natural lighting as the downstairs had.

  “This is quite cozy.” I remark aloud as there is no worry about anyone overhearing us here. “I bet it would make a nice place to study.” Chou flutters her wings to land on the old worn desk, kicking up a small cloud of dust in her wake. I amend my original thoughts, “Only after a bit of cleaning, though.”

  Chou and I spend a decent amount of the afternoon airing out the second floor, dusting, tidying, and exploring all that this space has to offer. In our time spent we find: a dusty, lumpy old mattress with no frame, another circular stairwell to a third and final floor, and an amazing view on three of the four quadrants which overlooks the town of Pearlshaw, the sharp snow covered peaks, and the eastern side of Court.

  When we have both had enough, we close up the windows and leave the spire as if we were never there. With any luck, it will stay a secluded retreat.

  14th of Inandyl - 2nd Emder

  I arrive in Professor Lighthammer’s workshop for our Relics Mock Exam to find my desk is already prepared with materials and instructions. I glance around at those here ahead of me, already working, and take it as a sign that I can start when I’m ready. I read the instructions carefully, but unfortunately they are rather brief.

  They state that I should enchant the raw materials to create a “self-sustaining light source”, whatever that means. Even more unfortunately, most of my term had been rediscovering lost techniques not used for hundreds of years, which helps me not at all in the present day. My eye twitches involuntarily as I set aside the instructions and assess the material they have given as my “vessel”.

  Much like the rock I chose in my first class in this room, the piece I have been given to work with is a simple piece of foggy, white quartz. Taking the same approach as I had with the rock, I hold it and let my mind drift, thinking about what this quartz might need to become illuminated.

  After only a few heartbeats, I start to see a picture in my mind’s eye of this foggy piece in a dark cave where almost no light exists. I build on the image, starting to imagine that the sun has peaked through several small holes in the earthen canopy to fall directly on this unsuspecting piece of mineral.

  When it does, I guide the image to have the quartz absorb the light and glow with the radiant sunshine. I gasp as a sudden shift in the image that I did not anticipate manifests in the mental picture as it refracts the light out into the once dark cave, illuminating every dark corner in a brilliant multi-colored light. A sigh and a smile escape me at the picture we have made before opening my eyes.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  I am only taken slightly aback to see the same brilliant, prismatic light shining from the quartz in my hands. With a smug, satisfied smile, I set down the glowing quartz to see if the magic would leave once I was no longer in possession of it. But no, it continues to sparkle with dazzling lights without my help or aether.

  The professor comes by shortly after to check on my work, obviously drawn by the flashy, multi-colored lights, like a beacon, on my workstation. Taking the now imbued quartz, he looks over my work with a critical eye and asks me how to turn it off. I shrug to him in response, how am I supposed to know?, I think indignantly. Then I start thinking about it more seriously. If my enchantment is based on the sun, maybe…

  My thoughts trail off as I reach for the quartz which the professor returns to me. I search for the right word that I learned in Magic Studies and whisper it to the quartz, almost afraid of what the result might be. “Nox.”

  As intended, the magical word for night snuffs the sun-fueled gem and the lights wink out in the blink of an eye. My confidence only grows with this successful discovery and I try one more word, “lux solis”, the magical word for sunlight. Upon my utterance, it bursts to light in a cascade of hues. I turn it off once more, handing it back to Professor Lighthammer with a triumphant smile on my face.

  He nods in approval, taking the stone back from my proffered hand. “Full marks, Miss Crowfoot. Well done.”

  16th of Inandyl - 3rd Kaldros

  Dr. Featherspeaker proctors our written exam and while I was expecting it to be something more to do with his Practical Medica class, I am disappointed when the actual essay topic is revealed.

  “Describe the similarities between Elemental magics and Incantation. What are the differences? How do these two magic theories relate to one another?”

  I curse Professor Moonshadow silently, feeling very singled out by this set of questions. After a few seething breaths, I refocus my aggravation from the entire term of my Magic Studies professor harassing me into giving the most thorough and complete analysis I can.

  It takes a brutal three hours to complete my theoretical essay, but by the end of it, I feel like I finally understand the correlation between the words and my weaving. Like a wound reopening, my blood boils hot with that seething frustration from before; that while all of this information was taught in class, this specific correlation was never once brought to my attention. Not once. I recall Professor Moonshadow only hinting at it after my success with elemental magics and silently curse her again for not being more direct.

  My anger has still not abated when I reach the entrance to the Sanctum and I realize before entering that I have been brooding all the way across campus. Not wanting to bring this baggage with me, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I think of the connection between my weaving and imagery that I have become rather adept at over the term, but instead of thinking of a gesture as the trigger for the manifestation, I think about replacing it with a word. A very specific word, like the words I used for the imbued quartz.

  I focus my mind on a weave made from threads of fire and air and hold the image there. I do not create the weave, but merely think about its form, its shape, and its intention. Once I feel that I have a sufficient grasp on the image in my mind’s eye, I connect the image with a word that fits the image; the intent. My eyes snap open and I intone a single word. “Ruptis.”

  In a sudden burst of aetheric energy, the weave in my mind forms in an instant and manifests in the next with an explosive pop. The very air around me ignited for the briefest moment before being consumed by the concussive force of the air being rapidly displaced away from me.

  A frustrated growl escapes me as I stomp one foot on the ground. It is the only action I trust myself to do in this mixed state of joy, frustration, elation, and anger.

  17th of Inandyl - 3rd Auryn

  My last mock exam is a combat practical against a golem. I arrive on time with Cira to the large hall where we usually practice and wait outside with a small group of others. Tymon is there and he starts up a nervous conversation with Cira while we wait. I let them chat without my input. My eyes feel red and raw from staying up too late practicing for this particular assessment. Cira is likely no better but she tells me that she needs much less sleep than I do. When I ask her why, the only explanation she gives me is that she is an elf. I’m too tired to push for a more detailed reason.

  When the door opens, Professor Blackclaw’s booming voice follows without pause. “Crowfoot.” He finds me a second later and nods. “Good you are here. You are up.” He holds the door open until I start toward the door, heaving a sigh. The last thing I hear is Cira’s enthusiastic “good luck!” before the door closes.

  Inside the large hall, there is a single desk and chair which the Professor has setup to observe with stacks of parchment. Beyond that, in the center of the room, is a ten-foot high, metal monstrosity. Its head is disproportionately small compared to its bulky body and four long, thin limbs. While it has arms in abundance, it is apparently stationary as there are no legs or mechanism by which for it to wander. It is altogether much more intimidating than I supposed it would be. Aren’t golems supposed to be made out of clay?

  “You recall the rules we went over in class?” The professor is now seated, going through some paperwork and I wince inwardly at the realization that I must have been gawking.

  I nod to him, joining him at the table. “I do. Three offensive spells only.”

  “Good.” He dips his quill and starts to write until he notices that I haven't moved. He stops to stare at me seriously and gestures pointedly toward the “golem”. “Whenever you are ready, Crowfoot.”

  I inhale sharply at his pointed look and scramble to take off my cloak, dropping it carelessly next to the desk where I stand. When I exhale, I shift my focus on what Calas and I discussed last week and what I practiced with Cira’s help last night.

  I summon the image of my interlocking shield of light easily from my mind and make the gesture for it to envelope me. With my shield around me, I walk toward the mechanical golem, envisioning my first spell against it. Unfortunately, I was too focused on imagining my weave and nearly missed something headed my way.

  I dive haphazardly to the side, narrowly avoiding an earthen projectile it had thrown at me. My breath quickens, a slight panic forming and I suddenly recall Calas’ words about keeping my eyes open while casting. On the other hand, I forget the trigger word as I pick myself up, running to get out of the way of another projectile. I weave air on instinct rather than using what’s been practiced, forming them into dozens of knives. All that practice comes rushing back to me like the blood pulsing in my veins and I recall a word of power from Cira.

  “Thúl!” I shout as I release all of my created daggers toward the golem.

  Sparks fly from the golem’s body accompanied by the crack of metal being punctured. My heart fills with elation, but I know I’m not done yet. I still have a promise to keep.

  In the brief seconds of respite from the golem being damaged, I complete the image of the woven shape of water, water, and more water in my mind. With a spare thought, I link this image to a complex lattice and one more spare thought links it all to the phrase I have practiced. I release a breath, squaring my stance before I speak the words that will give them life.

  “Unda Aestus.”

  Once the words leave my lips, my weave forms into a twenty foot wall of water, nearly as tall as the hall and it rushes forward from the force of my will pushing on it, sweeping the golem completely away. I smile at my accomplishment and turn back to the Professor’s desk.

  My smile turns quickly to fear as I am frozen in place by Professor Blackclaw’s irate expression. He is no longer sitting, but who can blame him as I have flooded the large hall with at least an inch of water. I laugh nervously as my feet find mobility and I approach the desk, picking up my sopping wet cloak in the process.

  “So,” I start hesitantly, “do I pass, then?” I give him a sheepish grin as a peace offering.

  He takes a deep breath as if trying to keep his composure before crossing his arms across his broad chest. “Yes, I would say so.”

  I start to silently cheer myself, but his warning tone interrupts my elation once more. “But Crowfoot,” he starts, pointing a stern finger in my direction, “don’t ever, ever, use that spell indoors again.”