After another few hours heading down the trail at a steady pace, Zaramir turned down a cobbled road line with carved wooden fencing, Corabelle following in tow. The path was nice, much nicer than the original trail, despite the fact that there was no indication of the owner of this estate.

  The road continued, winding through the trees and to a bridge over a creek. Just past the bridge was a stone arch with a carved plaque that read “House Firyna: School of Alchemy.”

  Below it was a smaller, shinier, less permanent plaque reading, “Master Vengürd Presiding”

  Past the sign, the path continued to a massive campus. From just this view she could count seven large buildings. A few seemed to be dormitories, while the others she guessed were class buildings. The smaller building dead ahead was clearly some sort of administrative building, far too small to be useful for anything else, though no less elaborate than the other highly decorated buildings dotting the expansive clearing.

  It was quite impressive for a new House. None of this was here before she’d been trapped in the maze. Before she was trapped, Alchemy wasn’t even considered a proper school of magic, it was lumped in as a subset of Transmutation.

  Inside the first building, she found herself being greeted by a chipper young receptionist. She was tall with curly brown hair and pretty fawn eyes. She was young enough to be a student, and likely was one working for her keep.

  “Good morning!” She chirped. “How can I help you?”

  Zaramir spoke first, “We’re here to inquire about the elemental disaster that occurred here just under a year ago.”

  The smile fell from her face, her voice warbling with nerves at his disconcertingly flat tone, “Oh. Are we in trouble? I thought the registry had all the relevant information. Did we forget a form?

  Zaramir shook his head, “We aren’t from the registry. We’re here to request access to the site if it hasn’t been built over.”

  “You’ll have to speak to Master Vengürd about that.” She replied professionally, a hint of nervousness still in her voice. “Though the site is forbidden to students and staff, I doubt he’ll allow you in.”

  “We will wait then.” Zaramir replied, ignoring her concerns.

  “Thank you.” Corabelle added.

  The receptionist smiled, “You’re welcome.” It was directed solely at Corabelle. “You may take a seat. It shouldn’t be long.”

  They took their seats in two of the six uniform wooden chairs lining the wall around a woven rug with their House Crest in pretty red thread.

  The receptionist re-busied herself with paperwork, keeping a very suspicious eye on Zaramir out of the corner of her eye.

  Corabelle leaned over, keeping her voice low, “Aren’t you worried about meeting a House Master?” She questioned.

  Though it may not be terribly obvious to the untrained eye, House Masters could tell the strength of a Spark easily and currently there were two blindingly strong Sparks in his own administrative building.

  “Evander Vengürd is a charlatan,” Zaramir replied, just a little too loudly.

  The receptionist's eyes flicked back over to them. Though she said nothing, perhaps almost looking as though she agreed.

  Zaramir ignored her, “He inherited this position from his uncle, Forsyth Vengürd, a proper Master. Perhaps I would have been concerned about him, but not the current Vengürd holding the position.”

  Despite this assurance, she was still nervous. Words from Zaramir in his current state did little to ease her own concerns.

  A man entered the room from the large set of double doors behind the receptionist surrounded by a gaggle of women.

  His appearance was all princely smiles and confidence as imposing as the sun. He wore a long red master’s robe that he must have also inherited from his uncle, given that it was far too small for his almost comically muscular build. Clearly his specialization was enhancement potions, because even the strongest lumbermen and blacksmiths paled compared to this man's carved form. This was not the body of a scholar nor was an attainable body through a normal man’s work. It bordered on grotesque.

  On top of that there was a loudness to him. Not his voice, not even the visual noise from his outrageous appearance. It was that same strange hum that came from a magical byproduct. He was slowed by magical effect so much that she could barely hear his voice over it.

  The women surrounding him seemed not to be bothered by his nearly absurd appearance nor the noise, fawning over him, dotingly singing his praises. Though they were all older than him by at least a decade, likely the professorial staff of the House.

  Evander Vengürd didn’t shut down their cooing, instead encouraging it. She suddenly no longer thought Zaramir was all that arrogant in the blazing light of the House Master’s ego.

  The receptionist stood up, clearly not as enthralled with the master as the other women, “Sir, you have guests who wish to speak to you about the incident. “

  Vengürd’s charming smile wavered ever so slightly, “Ladies,” he addressed the teachers. “Please wait in my office, we may continue our tour later. This won’t take a moment.”

  There were protests of disappointment, but they all obeyed, filing back into the office, the doors closing behind them.

  The receptionist sat back down, not even fully acknowledged by the Master.

  Vengürd glided over as he flashed the same smile at Corabelle, whilst completely, and very deliberately, ignoring Zaramir, “You wanted to talk to me?”

  “We are here to request access to the site of the elemental disaster that took place here.” Zaramir stood up, ignoring the other man's own attempt at ignoring him.

  Standing Zaramir was just a touch taller than the Master. Vengürd eyed him distastefully, perhaps perturbed by this fact “Hmm.” he grunted. “Well, as I'm sure my assistant told you, it’s off limits.”

  Zaramir’s jaw set. This man’s haughty attitude just barely managed to break through Zaramir’s indifferent shell, “Are you aware that if there was enough magic to be classified as a disaster in the Registry, then there was enough for elementals to potentially form?”

  “Of course.” The man said indignantly, though he didn’t seem entirely sure. Zaramir was right, they had nothing to worry about from this man.

  “Then you also know, if there are any remaining elementals, they will approach the point of destabilization, which would lead to a far worse disaster. Once that could potentially raze this whole House.”

  Vengürd’s jaw worked, clearly planning his next words carefully, though they proved to be less than eloquent, “What is your point?”

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  “We are here to remove any wild elementals that might remain.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed, clearly weighing his options, “What’s the cost?”

  “No cost. We just wish to keep any elementals we catch.” Zaramir replied, nerves clearly beginning to wear thin.

  “What do you need a wild elemental for?” He questioned with suspicious skepticism.

  Corabelle cut in before Zaramir could reply, before Vengürd’s suspicion of them could grow, “To practice binding,” She said sweetly, batting her eyes in mock adoration. “I need practice in Conjuration and binding and summoning a fire elemental should be simple but I just can’t get the hang of it and they’re so hard to come by that I never get the practice.”

  Vengürd’s attention returned to her, that dazzling smile stretching over his lips, “Nothing wrong with a young lady broadening her horizons. Might I ask what your specialty is? Let me guess Divination?” He purred

  “Are you sure you’re not a divination Master? How did you know?” She crooned, playing further into his ego. “So you give us permission to go?”

  “You flatter me, but I’m an alchemist through and through, but what sort of master would I be if I didn’t encourage a young apprentice in her studies.” He set a hand on her shoulder, sliding it slowly down to her wrist in a gesture that might have been genial from anyone else, but just made her want to squirm away. Nevertheless, she held firm.

  “Thank you so much, Master Vengürd.” She forced a sweet smile. “We’ll go right away and we’ll be out of your way by nightfall.”

  “Nonsense!” He exclaimed, hand still gripping her lower arm delicately. “You are no trouble at all. You’re always welcome in my House. Bryly,” He didn’t so much as glance at the receptionist as he addressed her. “Why don’t you escort my guests to the site?”

  “ My name is Bryla,” Corabelle heard the receptionist mutter under her breath before saying out loud, “Yes, Master Vengürd.”

  “Excellent. Come back here when you’ve finished at the site and Bryly will bring you to the banquet hall to join me for dinner.”

  “Oh, we don’t want to impose.” Corabelle took a step back, breaking his touch.

  “It’s not trouble at all for such a beautiful young woman. I insist, Miss…” He made a move and she realized he was extending his hand for her to shake. “ I don't believe you told me your name.”

  “Cor--” She caught herself, suddenly realizing she couldn’t share her real name. Instead she offered him the nickname Zaramir had been using as she extended her hand, “Cora. My name is Cora.”

  “Miss Cora,” The words coming from this man’s lips send spiders up her spine. The kiss he planted on her knuckles made her want to disappear into nothing. “I eagerly await our meal.”

  “We must be going.” Zaramir interjected.

  The receptionist, Bryla, was standing patiently by the door.

  Vengürd glanced in Zaramir’s direction as though he had nearly forgotten he was there, “Of course,” he responded dryly, before his syrupy tone returned, “Farewell, Miss Cora, I will see you soon.”

  As Bryla led them from the building Corabelle felt the tension drop from her shoulders. Being in that room with that man made her skin crawl. As incompetent as he clearly was and as powerful as she become, something about him made her want to keep running until there was no way he could find her.

  Maybe it was all the noise. He radiated falsehood. You couldn’t even trust how he looked, there was no way to trust his words.

  “You’re much braver than most,” Bryla finally spoke. “Not even Master Vengürd has gotten within a stone throw of that building since it happened.”

  “What did happen? If you don’t mind me asking.” Corabelle questioned, glad for a distraction from the disturbing feeling coming from where he touched.

  “Master Vengürd doesn’t like it being discussed,” She said shortly as a group of students passed by, eyeing the strangers on their campus with curious eyes. “All official reports say a new student added the wrong ingredient to a concoction then… well…pow. She made a little gesture with her hands to indicate a large explosion. “But,” She added softly after they were out of earshot of the group. “I’ve heard the staff talking. They say Vengürd was dabbling in something not within the scope of Alchemy and it went wrong. It seems a more likely option if you ask me. I mean, that building was home to Botanical studies. There should have been no way for an accident like that to happen and well… You’ve met the Master,” The word was thick with sarcasm but her voice lowered further. “He has his specialties but he’s not exactly the pinnacle of brilliance. It doesn’t seem outside the realm of reason to believe he might touch something he shouldn’t.”

  “I could believe that,” She replied, rubbing her arm.

  “Of course,” Bryla added. “It could all just be idle gossip. Students do their fair share of stupid things too. Accidents do happen, but it does make for a better story.”

  Bryla stopped at the foot of a hill, near the end of a row of buildings, “The site is right at the top of the hill.“ She pointed.

  Just visible from the place they stood was the top of a building missing a good segment of room attached to what was once a greenhouse, but was now little more than a melted frame of mangled metal that had once held sheets of glass. Even if the Master wasn’t hiding anything, the building was clearly unsafe, regardless of whether any elementals remained. It made sense it was forbidden, it was a hazard regardless of the reason.

  Corabelle was surprised it hadn’t been demolished and replaced by now.

  Bryla elected not to travel with them any further, leaving them to climb the hill alone in the blistering early afternoon sun.

  The doors to this building stood firm, warnings painted across the front, though her new sense told her there were no wards magically blocking visitors; the building was too quiet for fresh magic. Though, a slow, dull hum still resonated, remaining from the disaster.

  Zaramir took hold of the old doorknob, pulling the groaning wood open with ease. Something scurried within the shadowy building.

  Although Corabelle could see the shadows, her Runebind allowed her to see clearly as did the small beams of light stabbing through the collapsing roof.

  Small creatures scattered as they stepped foot into the main atrium. This room was hardly touched by the flames. Only the far wall showed signs of fire that ate away around the door jam, the door itself completely consumed, leaving only singed hinges indicating that it was ever more than an arch.

  “The epicenter is further in,” Zaramir noted, stopping in the middle of the room. “It’s unfortunate. It will make escaping all the more difficult should the need arise. Follow a few paces behind me.”

  Corabelle didn't argue, finding the breaking building eerie enough to want to stand behind him even if there was no possibility of a rogue, nearly unstable elemental.

  They continued through the charred door way deeper into the crumbling building.

  Corabelle noticed the small critters residing in the building began to dwindle the closer they got to the center of the disaster. It was not a bode of confidence.

  After passing a half dozen career doors lining the lengthy hallway, it let out into a large room that connected to the greenhouse. In this room, the roof was entirely missing, fully illuminating the catastrophe before them.

  There were remnants of tables, made of metal like those in Zaramir’s lab, but these had been metaled down into abstract heaps. There were no chairs. If there were once, they had been made of wood and disintegrated in the initial blast. A handful of broken charred and broken clay pots litter the floor, their contents vaporized. Puddles of solidified glass were running off the melted tables, pooling in the ash on the floor.

  If there had been any casualties, no evidence remained.

  As they stepped into the room, Zaramir held up a hand, halting her a few feet behind him.

  Without a word, he pointed to the table furthest from them, closest to the greenhouse.

  Laying neatly in a basin formed of melted metal were glowing embers, almost invisible in the bright light shining from the open roof. They sat unnaturally still for how delicate they should have been and the light draft flowing through the room.

  They found it. An elemental hibernating among the ruins.

  Zaramir’s arm shifted. Following where he pointed, Corabelle saw it, another tiny pile of still ember, this one resting under a shard of clay.

  Again he moved, indicating a third location. From there she could see two more.

  A deep anxiety pooled in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly she didn’t feel so confident in their chances of success.