The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “I keep my promises.”

  That was all she said. Ceria stared at her, and burst into tears. Illphres looked slightly surprised. That was to say, her eyes widened, although the lower half of her face didn’t change.

  “Stop that.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Don’t thank me. You broke my enchantment.”

  “But you—you—”

  Ceria sniveled and Illphres rolled her eyes.

  “Tomorrow, class will be held in my quarters. Find your way there. Do not be drunk or late. If any of your friends manage to melt the ice I will teach them too.”

  “Pisces will come.”

  Ceria said that instantly. Illphres paused.

  “I see. Will all the other students come? It is a valuable…secret you have. It might be worth much. What will you do with it, let everyone pass my test?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll do with it. I owe someone—but Pisces will come.”

  “So you will help your friend, to pass my test? I wonder, will you drag yourself down by pulling other people up?”

  It was a question that wasn’t really a question, but Ceria had an answer ready. She smiled through watery eyes at Illphres.

  “Real mages help each other. We don’t abandon each other.”

  The ice mage stared at Ceria for a long time. Then she passed a hand over the lower half of her face, obscuring her mouth. When she lowered her hand, Ceria saw she was smiling ever so slightly.

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  She turned and walked away. Ceria smiled at her back, and bowed ever so slightly. Then she ran to find Pisces. She had to drink more, and tell him—and maybe Calvaron—everything. After all, she didn’t want to be in Illphres’ class alone tomorrow. She wanted to learn everything with Pisces. At last, they had time.

  At last, they were true mages of Wistram.

  Wistram Days (Pt. 5)

  Of the many wonders of the world, the isle of Wistram and the academy of mages which rests upon it is not, in fact, one of the greatest. It is not the oldest relic of the past, not by far. The tall, dark citadel of stone does not shine with the colors of a thousand glittering ores smelted into metal like the fabled Dwarf-built towers in Baleros.

  And neither is Wistram associated with power, at least not more so than any other ancient structure. The Walled Cities of Izril speak of an era long past, when Drakes fought their distant ancestors from atop those battlements. It is not the oldest building made, nor the grandest, nor is it the most isolated.

  And yet, for every young mage in the world, no other place could capture their hearts so. Wistram Academy represents the pinnacle of magic learning and ambition. To them, it is a long-pursued dream, and to spend just a moment in those fabled halls is what some will work towards their entire lives.

  Which is why leaving is all the harder. The day after the yearly exams finished, the isle of Wistram saw a slight increase in the number of seafaring vessels docking in its stone harbor. Experienced [Captains] chartered from around the world made their way to Wistram to pick up the failed students. Of the hundreds who had come, as usual, less than a tenth had passed.

  The students departed silently, some weeping, others too disappointed for words. They stared at Wistram as the ships took them out of the calm bubble around the isle. As the winds and rain descended, the gray spires of Wistram’s citadel would be the last thing they saw.

  That is what those who had failed saw. For those who passed, their celebration was nearing their its consecutive day.

  —-

  It has to be said that mages know how to party. Aside from being able to obtain countless delicacies and goods from around the world, the students at Wistram had developed quite a number of spells specifically designed to add to a party. Some were amusing, like a spell that disguised a drink’s true nature until it had been imbibed. Others were simply dangerous, as in the case of one party which saw students play a game where they aimed spells at a moving target. Fifteen students were badly injured and one nearly died.

  However, on the third day the partying had ceased to become an all-day affair, and life was returning to normal, although the night’s entertainment was rumored to be better than last year’s. For now though, the newly accepted students stumbled into the banquet hall to eat before class. Some of them jumped in surprise when they heard the cheering from the older students, and several of them flushed red with embarrassment. They were full students of Wistram now.

  “Aw, look at them. They’re so awkward. It reminds me of you two when you passed.”

  Calvaron laughed as he sat at his customary table with Beatrice, Ceria, and Pisces. The others glanced up as they noted the new students streaming into the hall. Beatrice stopped spooning porridge into her mouth and turned her head to look, and Ceria did likewise. Pisces was still engrossed in his book.

  “How many passed this year?”

  “Thirty-four.”

  Beatrice answered this time. She frowned as a trio of people—Drake, Human, and Lizardman – passed by. They all had deathly pale bodies and they were clearly Selphids.

  “Lots of Selphids this year.”

  “So? Don’t glare, Beatrice. You’ll scare them.”

  Calvaron grinned as Beatrice looked away. She turned her head to continue feeding herself, and Ceria nudged Pisces.

  “Hey. Get your head out of the spellbook and take a look.”

  “What?”

  At last, Pisces blinked and looked up with a frown. He took in the new students being jeered, laughed at, and congratulated and blinked.

  “Oh, are the exams over? That was quick.”

  “Yes, it was. Stop reading and eat with us.”

  Ceria yanked the worn spellbook out of Pisces’ hands. He protested, but gave in and pulled the cold plate of sausages and potatoes over towards him.

  “You interrupted me just as I thought I was getting towards a breakthrough. I was close to figuring out the [Invisibility] spell, I’m sure of it!”

  “You’ve been saying that all month. One break’s not going to kill you so shut up and eat.”

  The half-Elf rolled her eyes as she levitated over a tureen of gravy while Pisces warmed his food up with a simple heat spell. In moments he was happily scarfing down his food.

  Calvaron sighed and shook his head as he stared at the two second-year student sadly.

  “It’s so sad.”

  “Don’t start, Calvaron.”

  “No, no! I have to say this.”

  The Centaur pretended to be deeply troubled, sighing and clutching at his chest.

  “I can’t bear to see it. How quickly you two become jaded – it feels like just yesterday you two were eager students, so happy to be admitted to Wistram! Didn’t you, Ceria, burst into tears at the table one year ago? And you, Pisces, I fondly recall you getting so drunk you thought you could cast the [Flight] spell and leaping off your balcony—”

  He ducked as Ceria hurled one of Pisces’ sausages at him. Beatrice raised her head so she could glare at everyone.

  “Stop that. Behave.”

  Calvaron raised his hands and Ceria went back to her food. Pisces was busy eating. The four students were used to each other’s company after a year of studying together, and so in no time they were talking about the latest world news and gossiping over publicly available secrets. But Calvaron stopped and turned his head as someone new approached their table.

  “Um, excuse me. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  Ceria paused as she reached for her goblet of milk, chewing a huge bite of sausage. She saw a young Human staring anxiously at her, a young woman to be exact, bright red hair hanging in a loose ponytail down the robes on her back.

  “Why certainly, miss. Have a seat, please!”

  Calvaron ushered the young woman to one of the padded chairs that went well with the low table. He waggled his fingers at Ceria and she shoved Pisces’ plate over to make room, much to his displeasure.

  “Ce
ria, I’m eating—”

  Pisces looked up and took in the new arrival. He coughed, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  “Ah, excuse me. Who is this?”

  “My name is Montressa du Valeross. I’m a first-year student here.”

  The young woman bowed her head slightly, practically radiating nervousness. She seemed intimidated by the older students, especially Beatrice, who was regarding her with her usual calm. Ceria found that amusing, and noted the slight smile on Calvaron’s face.

  “Please, sit Montressa. Are you here for me, or something else? I’m afraid I don’t have that many secrets to buy at the moment, but if you’re looking to sell a few—”

  “Secrets? Oh—I mean, no. I’d just like to sit and talk and—”

  Montressa stumbled over her words. Calvaron just laughed though, and with his usual charm broke through her awkwardness.

  “Oh, just talk is it? Well, I’m good at talking. You’re one of the students who just passed the exam? Congratulations! Don’t let my dour companions put you off—Beatrice stares at everyone, Ceria’s always grumpy and Pisces doesn’t see anything when he’s eating.”

  He winced as a napkin, sausage, and pinch of salt bounced off his chest. Montressa laughed, covered her mouth, and thus became part of the table.

  “So, why are you here Montressa?”

  Calvaron asked that after the young woman had begun eating the food she’d brought. Ceria saw her pause as she lifted a forkful of buttered peas to her mouth. Montressa put her fork down and glanced at Ceria and Pisces before replying.

  “Well, I’m ah, new here. And I was just accepted to Wistram, but I actually didn’t take the exams. I got in late you see; I’ve only been studying for a week now.”

  Ceria saw Pisces’ eyebrows rise and she blinked in astonishment herself. But Calvaron only nodded as if it were obvious.

  “Your family paid the full fees for this year? Well, no wonder Wistram accepted you.”

  Montressa blushed.

  “I wanted to take the exam, but I wouldn’t have passed and I missed the first ship you see—”

  “Don’t worry about it. A student’s a student. It’s just your good fortune you could afford to pay your way in.”

  Ceria frowned.

  “Du Valeross? Oh, you’re one of the Terandrian nobility, aren’t you? You wouldn’t happen to know Timor du Havrington, would you?”

  “Me? No. I mean, I know of his family, but I haven’t talked to any of them.”

  “Good. Otherwise we’d have to kick you out of the table.”

  Calvaron smiled to allay the girl’s sudden panic.

  “Don’t worry. It’s nothing you’ve done. It’s just that Ceria and Pisces here don’t get along with Timor du Havrington or his friends. I’d suggest you stay away from him as well. He’s a bad egg, you know. And let me tell you, there’s nothing like a bad egg to spoil an omelette.”

  Montressa nodded seriously, and Ceria had to pinch herself hard not to burst out laughing. She saw the same humor in Pisces and Beatrice’s eyes; Montressa was so earnest she was taking Calvaron seriously.

  They kept eating. Montressa explained that she was an aspiring mage—she’d been tutored since she was young, but to really start her education she’d been sent to Wistram by her family.

  “My parents are of the lesser Terandrian nobility. They want me to become a great mage and apparently I have the aptitude, so they made a gift to Wistram for my enrollment.”

  “And no doubt you’ve been approached by all the factions already. I hope you didn’t commit.”

  The young woman nodded nervously.

  “I was told to avoid making promises. And I’m just learning my way around here still—I only found out about secrets yesterday. I don’t want to take sides, just study.”

  “Good luck.”

  Pisces sighed, and Ceria made a face. She was still independent after a year, as was he. But pressure on them was mounting too.

  “So you’re a new, keen student. That makes sense, but I have to ask, why sit with us? We’re happy to have you, but you seem to have approached us for a reason.”

  Montressa fiddled with her fork.

  “I um, heard you all were really good mages. I didn’t study with the other students for the first month, so I’m really behind—I was hoping I could ask one of you to tutor me. I could pay, but I don’t have that much coin on me and I don’t have any secrets, so…”

  The older students fell silent. Calvaron stroked his chin as he glanced at Beatrice. She smiled slightly and nodded a bit—Ceria shrugged and poked Pisces. He was busy eating and didn’t notice.

  “Well, Pisces here is probably the best for that.”

  Pisces looked up.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Why don’t you help young Montressa with her studies?”

  The young man swept a hand through his messy hair, looking distracted.

  “Well, I am studying my [Invisibility] spell at the moment. IT would be a time commitment but I…hm. I don’t think I’d fall behind in my own classes—”

  “I’ll pay you. Four small secrets for helping, how about that?”

  Montressa opened her mouth to protest as Pisces sat up and nodded. Calvaron waggled a finger at her.

  “Ah, ah. Don’t object. You’re new and I have a soft spot for new students. After all—”

  He clutched at his chest as Ceria rolled her eyes and smiled.

  “—You’re only young once. Besides, Pisces really is the best mage in Wistram to help you.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes. Don’t you know who you’re sitting across from? Pisces—wipe your mouth, Pisces—is a hero, nay, legend among his fellow students.”

  Montressa’s mouth feel open as Ceria tried desperately not to burst out laughing. Calvaron continued, eyes twinkling.

  “Do you know he finished his first-year exams by killing a Troll? He was passed unanimously by all the mages. He actually got money from Wistram to stay, if you can believe that. A natural genius; he’s the best second-year student at dueling, and debate and he’s one of only six students to have passed the Ice Demon’s class last year.”

  “Ice Demon? I heard the class last year was hard, but the teacher for this year is nice. Who is the ‘Ice Demon’? Is she actually a demon? From Rhir?”

  “Close, but even those demons would probably run from Illphres. You might know her as the grumpy Human who never smiles to anyone. She specializes in ice magic—she had to teach a class in combat magic last year, but it was so grueling that everyone who managed to take it dropped out. Only six students passed. Two of them are sitting at this table.”

  Pisces straightened up importantly, and Ceria waved a hand. Montressa turned huge eyes to her. It was too much. Ceria stood up, balancing her dishes on top of one another.

  “I’ve got to go. Don’t tell Montressa too many lies, Calvaron.”

  He looked offended.

  “Lies? Not at all. I may exaggerate the truth, but believe me, Miss Montressa, every work I say is absolutely true. Good luck, Ceria!”

  She waved at him as she left the table. Pisces was still eating and he waggled his fingers at her. Ceria left, striding purposefully out of the banquet hall.

  The Ice Demon? Is that what people were calling Illphres nowadays? Ceria supposed the nickname had started last year when she was teaching. It wasn’t entirely undeserved.

  Balancing on poles while firing magic at oncoming targets, learning to cast while in pain or under stress, aiming at targets that were invisible – in the days after Ceria had won the right to take Illphres’ class, she’d sometimes wished she’d failed the exam altogether. Although she’d traded the knowledge of how to pass Illphres’ test to Calvaron for a good price—as payment for him helping her get the salt in the first place—almost all of the students who took Illphres’ class still dropped out.

  The woman was vindictive, mean, uncaring, and frankly, rude. She’d made each student melt the ice
with the salt by themselves while she watched, which eliminated over half who simply gave up from sheer exhaustion. And yet, Ceria had leveled up more from her tutelage than anyone else’s.

  That was why Ceria stopped in front of the door that was lined with frost two floors up from the banquet hall and waited. She knew better than to knock; Illphres’ room was so cold that the door could tear the skin off of the palm of your hand. Nor did she try to get Illphres’ attention by shouting or calling out. If Illphres knew she was here, she probably wouldn’t come out.

  Ceria was fairly confident Illphres hadn’t gone to breakfast yet, and sure enough, after only fifteen minutes or so of waiting, the door opened. The expressionless woman with dark hair paused when she saw Ceria. The half-Elf stared innocently back at her.

  “Good morning, Miss Illphres.”

  The woman just stared at her. Illphres sighed, and then walked out into the corridor. She moved past Ceria without a word, walking slowly and somewhat stiffly down the hallway. Students and some mages moved aside when they saw her, but Ceria just caught up to Illphres and began chatting naturally.

  “I gained a new class today.”

  “Oh?”

  Illphres’ voice contained not a shred of interest. Ceria smiled cheerfully, forcing her mouth to move upwards.

  “Yeah, I gained the [Elementalist] class.”

  “How interesting.”

  “I think it’s a good start, don’t you? It’s better than being a general [Mage], at any rate.”

  “An [Elementalist] is just a mage who can’t commit to one specific element.”

  That stung and made the smile on Ceria’s face falter, but she didn’t stop.

  “Well…it’s still a class change. And I owe it all to you.”

  “Do you?”

  “You taught me how to impove my magic. You helped me learn so much last year. And you know, I am a second-year student now.”

  “So I understand.”