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Chapter six: Mages
“So, today we will talk about the kinds of mages,” Tillaman addressed the class as Ariadne sat down. “In Zeldric, mages are defined into classes. This is the reason the academy exists; as a way to help you know where you are most proficient, and help you do your best in that class…”
“I’m going to be a sword mage,” Stratin whispered from his side of the desk.
Kilvic turned to the boy. He was undeniably built for sword play, but the way he placed his feet when he walked insisted his strengths laid elsewhere. To be a sword mage, he would have to perfect the use of the weapon to the point where he would be capable of infusing his will, not just his reia, into whatever sword he wielded.
Being a sword mage required a vast level of physical dedication mages hadn’t always been known for. Whatever swordplay he chose would have to be ingrained in him and the sword he carried, and with his eccentricities—as Ariad
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Grunald’s class, unlike the others, wasn’t held in a class room. At least, not in a room that gave gratitude to the term.Where there should have been seats, there were none. The entrance was free of the confines of a door which allowed the students the freedom to walk in as they pleased. The walls, brown as mud, were covered in weapons as many as could arm an army of Nazruls, and rose so high it could have easily been mistaken for a cave rather than a room. In all things, it was the best place to teach a school of learners in the use of weaponry.Kilvic walked in after Stratin who was all too eager to attend. Moss, on the other hand, was a sharp contrast to the boy. It seemed as though he would rather be anywhere else. And though Kilvic understood the concept of such preference, he did not agree with it. Not much of human behavior was taught by his mother or grandfather at castle Grey, but the concept of duty held a prevalent position in whatever was done.
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Kilvic managed a smile as he walked down the passage just before Moss and Stratin appeared on both sides of him.“What’re you smiling on about?” Moss asked in his voice that wasn’t certain if it wanted to become a baritone. “Grunald’s class was horrible.”Kilvic discarded the smile. “It has nothing to do with that.”“Then what?”Like his smile, he discarded thoughts of unjustified retribution, giving what was left of it to his new friend in one sentence.“I believe I’ve just made myself an enemy.”They left the comfort of the buildings, substituting the aegis of ceilings and blue lights for the freedom of the cool breeze and an evening sky which was without cloud nor the light of the sun. The lights of the classrooms and their passages really did much to eliminate the knowledge of what the weather looked like outside of them.Kilvic followed Moss and S
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Their accommodation proved itself to be nothing in line with what Kilvic had expected. A dorm, or perhaps a hostel, would’ve been more than sufficient. Instead, he was led to a house.The building was a dull blue, and judging by its height, it held no more than a two stories. The door stood firmly at its center so that from frame to end the walls on both sides were of equal length. The house had a porch with steps they climbed and Kilvic couldn’t draw himself from the bold Carague emblazoned on one side of the wall.A carague erred on the side of the jaguar, but physique was as far as the semblance went. The demon easily stood twice the size of its earthly counterpart, and with a poisoned saliva, its preys never went far once tasted. It was a strong enough demon, but he’d always considered it one best used for hunting, because while its three eyes gave it a greater peripheral view, it was negated by its inability to focus on more than one point at a t
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Kilvic drummed his fingers against the desk beside him. Standing in line was a new experience for him. His classmates had long discarded the concept of orderliness and were pushing back and forth, though a select few remained seated. Suffice it to say, he stood outside of the line but never took his eyes off his position behind Moss.He’d been in the academy for two weeks now and understood the basic routines surrounding its daily activities. Today was his fifth summoning lecture, and while Instructor Quiv had taught them various other essentials, and stalled long enough, he was finally allowing them summon their first demons. The demons they would summon today, he had told them, would be the demon they would use for at least the rest of their first year.In the times he’d taught them, Quiv had made certain they all understood that nilhium was the only way to summon a demon from the eartherrealm. It was the most valuable crystal a mage could ever get their
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When Kilvic took his seat, Moss and Stratin made failed attempts at concealing their emotions towards the debacle. But Ariadne made no such attempt, the compassion was written all over her face when she turned to him.“I’m so sorry,” she said, and meant it.The apology brought him confusion.“Why?” he asked her, curious. There were only a few reasons a person would feel the need to apologize in such a manner, and by the life of him he had no idea what her crime could’ve been. “What have you done?” he added.Ariadne drew a blank, her confusion usurping her compassion.“Aren’t you…” She trailed off when she saw the other boys shaking their heads. “Am I missing something?”“Look at him,” Stratin told her.“Ok,” she complied, skeptical. After a while, she turned back to him, confused. “What am I looking for?”&ld
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There are many ways to fight like a man, but there is no one way to fight like a man. Since the beginning of things, men have fought and been fought, anyone could easily say mankind has lived only to perfect the art. So when people asked a person to fight like a man, Kilvic was always confused at the request.To fight like a man, apparently, was to fight with honor and grace and class and other things of the sort. The truth? It was all hubris. Such notions and dispositions were found in duels. In a fight, they were a quick way to lose; it was not their place. Thus, he could agree that these notions and ideals were what it meant to duel like a man. Regardless, to fight like a man means to do anything to win, which meant a man should be willing to claw and scratch and bite. Hitting below the belt wasn’t left out, and the occasional sand toss and spitting was as fair as anything else could be. Some would say these acts were unsavory and considered cheating, but that was wh
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Kilvic and his friends left the academy gate and chattered a carriage that took them into the city. The sun was nearing its peak when they arrived in the city and the buildings around them, as tall as the Carag hall, with glass fitted into their walls facing the streets, flanked them on both sides. Each one was separated from the next by dark alleys, and their signboards marketed their names in less elusory letterings than the ones that adorned their glasses.Their carriage pulled to a stop behind a line of other carriages, and while the clacking of the horse shoes on cobblestone ceased, the clacking of horseshoes outside continued to litter the air. Stratin paid the man and they disembarked in front of a cobbler’s shop with a glass that portrayed a variety of shoes and boots that Kilvic decided to return for before the day was done.They strolled the streets, subjecting themselves to the leisure of sightseeing. They engaged in easy conversations, witty banter, a
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