by Pirateaba
“Well.”
Ceria blew out her cheeks, partly exasperated, but mostly impressed. Pisces certainly was gifted. She looked around the other corridors and frowned.
“Where to next?”
Pisces frowned. He stared at one of the windows. The sun was nearly directly overhead. Wistram had other ways of telling time of course, but this was the easiest to use.
“Um…illusion class, I think. After that’s destruction magic.”
“So we’re free?”
“Unless you’ve figured out where the illusion class is being held yet?”
“Nope. You?”
Pisces shook his head. Ceria looked around and saw the other students were milling about, equally confused as to where to go. She gritted her teeth, annoyed.
“I can’t believe there aren’t any signs.”
“Or a map. That would be quite helpful.”
There was a trick to Wistram. Actually, more than one trick; it was like walking into a dungeon full of traps, really, but there was a trick to being a student that Ceria had quickly realized. And it was that being a student meant you had to learn everything. Not just magic. Even basic things like directions, where the bathrooms were located—all of that vital information you had to find out for yourself, because no one would teach you.
Class, for instance. Ceria had heard of royal academies some nations had founded to train [Strategists], or [Scholars] and even [Mages] of their own, but where those places were neat, highly-regulated affairs, Wistram clearly believed in finding things out for yourself.
Case in point. The first day Ceria and Pisces had been in Wistram—the first full day, not counting their exciting voyage and rescue—they’d been given a tour of Wistram, as well as supplies to be used during their time here. Ink pots, quills—even a low-level spellbook of their own! Calvaron had been one of the students who’d shown Ceria where to go and not to go, and what places were off-limits to new students like her.
Only, it appeared that while older students like Calvaron had been only too willing to show the new students around the first day, they hadn’t pointed out specific classrooms. Thus, when class had actually started, Ceria had had to run around with Pisces, walking into classes in session before they found the one they were assigned to.
This was embarrassing, but not the worst part. Some classes were easy enough to figure out, and the teachers had even posted directions on the large message board next to the dining hall. But no matter how hard Ceria and the other students had searched, they still hadn’t found some of the other classes they were slated to attend. The illusion classroom was supposed to be somewhere on the ground floor, but no one had found it yet.
Ceria was certain that was some kind of twisted joke. She scowled as she wondered what she might be learning if she was in the right class—she didn’t know any illusion spells, and she would dearly love to learn one or two. But she yawned once, which prompted Pisces to yawn as well.
“I don’t wish to seem lax, but I very much doubt three more hours of unsuccessful searching would do either of us any good, do you?”
“Probably not.”
“Then I shall return to my rooms for a quick rest. Would you like to…?”
Ceria thought about it as Pisces eyed her hopefully. Her instinct was to say ‘no’, but it wasn’t as if Pisces was inviting her into his room. And besides—
“Fine. Let’s go.”
She and Pisces began walking out of the intersection. Their departure seemed to make up the other new student’s minds, and they began to leave too. Soon, the wide corridors were packed with busy people, some tripping over their robes.
Robes. Ceria snorted as she walked along in her normal, practical leggings and tunic. Over half of the new students were wearing long robes, usually dark blue or black. They’d bought it along with a low-quality wand, as if it were prerequisite for being a [Mage]. All it really did, in Ceria’s opinion, was make you look like an idiot. The older students, Calvaron and Beatrice included, didn’t wear robes. Then again, Calvaron was a Centaur and Beatrice was a Dullahan, so perhaps that was an unfair comparison.
This time Ceria took the lead, which meant that she could set the pace. Pisces walked next to her, easily keeping up as they turned left and right and went up a flight of stairs. Both had to concentrate on where they were going—there wasn’t much traffic in the hallways except at the busiest of intersections, but Wistram was a labyrinth. It was all too easy to get lost and turn the wrong way and find yourself quite a ways away from where you wanted to be.
“I thought that was a rather informative class, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Ceria grunted as she walked along. She made a face. She was still sour over being reprimanded.
“I certainly benefited from someone showing me how to cast the [Electric Jolt] spell, and the way our teacher optimized the spell was quite interesting.”
“That I’ll grant you. Still, learning to make a weak spell slightly more effective wasn’t why I came here.”
Ceria stopped at an intersection where two paths split off diagonally from each other. It was odd architecture, and Ceria couldn’t remember which way led to their rooms. Pisces pointed.
“I think we go right here. Well, what did you expect?”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought we’d be picking up higher-Tier spells, not working on the basics.”
“I would like that. But we are new students, aren’t we? If we don’t improve on our fundamental abilities, we wouldn’t be able to cast better spells anyways.”
That was true. Ceria knew [Ice Shard], but she could barely create more than twenty darts before she had to sit down. That was a far cry from a good mage’s capabilities, let alone a Gold-rank [Mage], for example.
“I guess you’re right. Still…”
She scowled, not wanting to put her feelings into words. She walked briskly forwards, and Pisces stepped a bit more quickly to catch up.
She knew they had to make an odd pair. Ceria was a half-Elf, and Pisces was…well, a young man who looked more like a peasant than a student. There were odder pairings, Calvaron and Beatrice for example, and Ceria had seen Drakes and even a Selphid walking down the halls just this morning. But it was strange to be talking so familiarly with a Human, given where both came from.
Pisces cleared his throat.
“I noticed the lecturer was ah, slightly hostile towards you, Ceria. Maybe it’s because of your…”
“My race, you mean?”
Ceria grimaced as she twitched her ears in annoyance. Pisces made a noncommittal sound.
“Straight ahead here, I believe. Do you think he’s from Terandria?”
She shrugged.
“He could be. If he lived in the north or eastern parts of the continent…or not. It doesn’t really matter—half-Elves don’t have a good reputation anywhere.”
“Really? I know that some nations in Terandria ah, don’t have the best relations with your people, but everywhere?”
“You’ve heard the rumors about half-Elves, right? We’re thieves, we can’t be trusted, we hate Humans—”
“But those are rumors, surely. Just like how you can’t let a Selphid into a graveyard, and a Gnoll will bite your face off if you offend them.”
“Yeah. I mean—yes. Come on, it’s this way.”
Ceria turned away from Pisces. She wasn’t used to someone taking her side, and it was uncomfortable.
“Okay, maybe in other parts of the world we’re more welcomed, but half-Elves keep to ourselves no matter where we go. And if he is from Terandria, there’s bad blood. Lots of it. Centuries of conflict.”
“Indeed. I just didn’t think he was being that fair in his critique of you, that’s all.”
“Well—thanks.”
They walked on. Ceria began to recognize their part of the citadel as the view in the windows changed. She and Pisces occupied some sort of overlook right above the rocks of the isle, and as she stared out at the
calm, peaceful bubble of water surrounding Wistram, she spotted their rooms.
“Here we are.”
“Here we are indeed.”
Pisces nodded to Ceria.
“I’ll ah, take a nap. Would you like to have lunch together later?”
“I—guess so. Okay. See you later.”
He nodded, smiled, and yawned. Ceria yawned too, and she found herself fumbling with the lock in her keyhole. She tossed her heavy bag onto a chair, wincing as she heard a sealed pot of ink clink against the wood, and rubbed at her shoulder. Then she yawned again.
It was strange. Ceria was exhausted, and the day wasn’t even truly begun. Five hours had passed since they’d woken up. Well, six, but the first hour had just been comprised of dressing, eating, and finding their way to class. The other five had involved studying.
Maybe if it was just studying in the sense of reading books and listening to someone talk Ceria would have been more awake. But in Wistram, studying also meant casting magic. She’d been taught several basic spells and forced to use her mana to prove to her teachers that she could perform basic incantations. That wasn’t hard, but she’d had to do it again and again.
Repeatedly casting spells, even low-Tier ones, was extremely draining. The result was that even at midmorning of their second day, both Ceria and Pisces felt physically exhausted, if not mentally. They wandered into their rooms and fell asleep for a few solid hours before waking bleary-eyed and restless.
Of the two, Ceria was the most exhausted. She barely managed to rouse herself for a very late lunch after Pisces knocked on her door, and she stumbled into the grand dining hall with a scowl as she got her food.
Raucous laughter greeted both her and Pisces as they sat at one of the tables. Calvaron and Beatrice were seated at a large table next to the couches, and they waved the two new [Mages] over. Ceria hadn’t seen them much yesterday, but she saw the two older students were studying at their table while they ate.
Spell books, expensive, magical, and sometimes literally glowing with the spells inscribed on them, were carelessly propped open by bowls and mugs. The Dullahan and Centaur looked like they’d been eating and sitting for a while, judging by the mess on their table. Calvaron swept some dishes aside as he called out to Ceria.
“Your hair looks like a tangled spiderweb, Springwalker! Did you get a bit of rest after all the magic practice this morning?”
She glared at him as she put down her food—thick slices of roasted mushrooms in a sauce and what she thought was pork—on the table.
“I’d laugh—but I forgot that I don’t like jokes.”
“Ooh, touchy. Are you in the same class as Ceria, Pisces? I’d sit far away from her if I were you, or she might bite your head off.”
“I can leave. Or throw these mushrooms at you.”
Calvaron ducked his head slightly as Ceria raised her fork with one of the dripping mushrooms.
“Don’t, please. I hate mushrooms.”
“I’m allergic to mushrooms.”
The Centaur, Human, and half-Elf all looked at Beatrice. She was calmly eating some peas, chewing without much expression.
“Sorry. I can take them away if it’s a bother.”
“Just don’t drop them on my armor.”
Ceria nodded and settled down as she began to eat her meal. Calvaron wasn’t done teasing though. The Centaur grinned at the two others.
“Did you just wake up? Exhausted, are we?”
“Quite.”
Pisces nodded as he stuffed his face full of meat. He’d completely ignored the mushrooms as well.
“I had no idea—mnph, this is good—that the lessons could be this intense. Will they always be so hard?”
Beatrice looked mildly disgusted at Pisces’ display of eating. She moved her head off the table and onto her lap as Calvaron nodded and laughed again.
“Everyone always complains on the first day. Have you two never been taught by another [Mage] before?”
Ceria shook her head, ruefully.
“I learnt all my spells from books. I taught myself.”
Pisces hesitated before replying.
“There was a local [Hedge Mage] in my…village who agreed to teach me.”
Calvaron nodded as he reached for a drink of dark purple juice. Ceria smelled grape and wished she’d gotten some.
“The first lessons are always the hardest. Once they’re sure you’re not making novice mistakes in how you form your spells, the teachers will go easier on you.”
“I hope so. But do we have to take classes at all? I thought Wistram let mages study how they pleased.”
Scowling, Ceria bit into another mushroom, chewing hard. Someone hadn’t cooked these thoroughly enough. Beatrice and Calvaron shrugged in reply.
“Some people just study by themselves. But until you’re sure that’s the way you want to go, I’d pay attention in the lessons and try to impress the mages assigned to teach you.”
“For the exam.”
“Exactly!”
The Centaur grinned as Ceria’s stomach gave a small lurch and Pisces paused long enough to look worried.
“Will we learn any complex spells before then?”
“Some basic ones, yes, but complex? Not unless your teacher’s quite odd. You lot are only here for a month—all of your courses are the most basic ones.”
Beatrice nodded.
“Boring classes.”
“Golem creation, scroll scribing, trap spells and enchantments—all of that only gets taught when we’re in our second years at the earliest. Most students don’t get to those kind of lessons until year six. Talented ones get there sooner, but…”
“Wonderful.”
Ceria muttered as she drank her own cup of water. Pisces looked dispirited as well, but then he turned to the older students hopefully.
“If you’re going to be helpful, mind telling us where the illusion classes are being taught? No one’s found the classroom so far.”
“Oh? Illusion class?”
They laughed. Well, Calvaron laughed and Beatrice chuckled. Ceria frowned at them.
“What’s the joke?”
The Centaur scratched at his head and smiled enigmatically at the two of them.
“I…could tell you how to find it, but I’m afraid I’d have to charge you two for that.”
“What? You’d ask us for money?”
Ceria was outraged—she’d thought the Centaur and Dullahan were friends, or at least friendly!—but Calvaron was shaking his head, trying not to chuckle.
“No, you see—ah, Beatrice, what should I do? If I explain it, I’ll lose the chance to charge them for that as well. Do you think we should just give away a secret like that?”
The half-Elf had no idea what they were talking about, but Beatrice paused for a second before nodding her head with her hands.
“It’s not a big secret. You should tell them to be friendly. Or she’ll throw mushrooms at us.”
Calvaron glanced at Ceria. She was indeed considering heaving her dish at his head. Pisces just watched the other two thoughtfully. At last, Calvaron sighed, sounding put-upon.
“I suppose we can. Okay you two, you’re about to learn a bit more about how Wistram works. For free, no less.”
“What are you talking about?”
Beatrice sighed.
“They are a currency. Secrets.”
Calvaron paused, mouth open and looked over at Beatrice with a frown. Ceria and Pisces just stared at the two of them.
“Thanks for ruining my moment, Beatrice.”
“Welcome.”
The Dullahan shrugged impassively. Ceria stared at her and the resigned Centaur.
“What?”
“You heard her. Wistram runs on secrets, not coin around here. You would have figured it out sooner or later, but…”
“I still don’t get it.”
“It’s very simple. If you want something—a spell, a favor, or even another secret, you have to pay for it. U
nfortunately, or fortunately for those of us without money, the most valuable thing around here is secrets.”
“Secrets.”
Ceria felt like she was speaking another language. Calvaron wiggled his eyebrows as he smiled at her.
“That’s right. Secrets about where treasure’s buried, unique classes, spells no one’s heard of—I say secrets, but it’s more general knowledge in most cas—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Secrets, Springwalker! Secrets!”
Pisces stopped Ceria from getting up and kicking the table over. He smiled at her.
“I believe Calvaron is saying Wistram uses a bartering system.”
“What?”
It took a while, but with Calvaron to explain and Pisces to clarify—and Beatrice to nod silently—Ceria finally got it.
Wistram used secrets like coins. Small secrets, big secrets—they were what [Mages] and students alike traded each other for favors, or even real objects.
“Like coin? You could trade a secret for a—a bag of gold coins?”
Calvaron nodded happily as he ate something yellow and strange he called a ‘banana’. It looked disgusting to Ceria.
“That’s right. Wistram doesn’t have much use for coin, although there are always merchants sailing in to harbor…but secrets and magic are the real coin around here.”
“But how does that work? Are there really that many secrets there? No—how could you keep that many secrets for so long? How could a system like that keep functioning?”
The Centaur shrugged.
“It works because it has to. We need some kind of currency, and money isn’t good enough. And secrets have a weight of their own. True, if you went around telling everyone then the secret’s worthless. But if there were a room only you and someone else knew about—or a part of the academy that you have to have a password to get into—”
“Which there are.”
“—Which there are, thank you Beatrice. The system might not work anywhere else, but Wistram has so many secrets and hidden surprises that even now people are finding new things out. Just the other day, someone found a wall that disappears if you say the right words.”
“Oh? And what was behind the wall?”
Pisces was curious, but Calvaron just waggled a finger at him.