Summer, year 566 of the Varakarian Cycle

  Kharg stepped out of the towering central structure of the Academy, his mind still buzzing with excitement from the morning’s successful tests. The sun was now casting a warm light over the courtyard, highlighting the paved paths that intersected the lush greenery. As he walked around the perimeter of the main tower toward the right wing, he took in the sights and sounds of bustling students and staff.

  The right-wing building stood tall, its three floors of white stone contrasting sharply with a sleek black-tiled roof. It was a place dedicated to the junior students of magic, a place where foundational knowledge was cultivated. At its entrance lay a semi-circular platform with three steps leading up to it, simple yet fitting for the grandeur of the structure. Two statues of gryphons flanked the dark wooden arched double doors, their stony gazes giving each visitor a feeling of being carefully scrutinized upon arrival.

  Kharg ascended the stairs and passed through the open doors into a spacious foyer. The hall had a wooden desk positioned firmly at the center where Argus, the clerk, was stationed. A door led into a small study behind him, the workspace filled with neatly arranged scrolls and ledgers, alongside a shelf stocked with school uniforms and writing materials. The far end of the foyer featured a wide marble staircase leading up to the second floor. From where he stood, Kharg could glimpse into the two lecture halls, each shaped in an amphitheater style. The seating rose in tiers from a central platform sunken below ground level, presumably lending the halls excellent acoustics.

  Argus was a middle-aged man, impeccably groomed, exuding an air of both authority and welcoming efficiency. As Kharg approached, he noticed that the clerk stared at Fafne in amazement.

  Clearing his throat, Kharg introduced himself and showed his new badge.

  “Welcome to the Academy. My name is Argus,” the clerk replied after having managed to shift his attention to Kharg. “I guess this is your familiar? Quite the companion, if I may say so. I have only read about such things, but never seen an actual faerie dragon.”

  Fafne preened at the attention and gave Argus a wink.

  “Thank you. He's been a steadfast friend.”

  Argus nodded approvingly and gestured for Kharg to follow him into the study. They seated themselves and dove into discussions about Kharg's new life at the Academy.

  “Let's discuss your accommodations first,” Argus began eyeing the finery of Kharg’s attire, “Will you be staying in the dormitories or arranging your own lodgings?”

  “I think I would like to have a room here. That would facilitate longer study days.”

  “Fine, fine. We have more luxurious suites at the price of two golden pounds per month while the common rooms cost four shillings per month.”

  “I think the common rooms should suffice.” Kharg replied, momentarily taken aback by the prices at first. But as he considered it, they aligned fairly well with what he should have expected. The room was only slightly more expensive than a single room at an inn, but it would still eat into his funds. His father had supplied him with a letter of credit to cover his studies, but it would not last forever, two hundred pounds in total.

  Argus made a small gesture of agreement as he retrieved a key from his desk drawer. “I have a room for you at the second dormitory building on the first floor, room fourteen. It should serve you well.”

  Kharg accepted the key, grateful for the smooth transition. Argus then presented him with the standard uniform, a dark gray tunic adorned with the Academy’s emblem. Although it was functional, the coarse linen and poor fit caused Kharg's brow to furrow slightly. Noticing this, Argus reassured him with a chuckle. “You're welcome to have a tailor make something more to your liking, as long as the color and design remain consistent with the Academy’s requirements.”

  When Kharg gave a brief nod, Argus continued. “As for the tuition fee, it is set at three shillings per day, six days a week. Resten is meant for rest and retrospection, as is customary.”

  Aghast at the cost, Kharg dipped his head in quiet acknowledgment. This meant he only had enough for around two years of study, with a minor allowance for occasional visits to the tavern. He wondered whether Akgun would extend him another letter of credit after those two years elapsed, but that was a concern for the distant future.

  Argus rifled through a stack of parchment timetables, the faint scratch of his own quill from earlier notes still lingering on the desk beside him. “Based on Master Ernold’s recommendations, I would advise starting with mathematics and the natural sciences,” he said, glancing up at Kharg. “A solid grounding in both will serve any mage well. The higher circles of magic demand more than strength of will. Without a grasp of the physical principles behind the spells, much of that knowledge remains out of reach.”

  He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Tell me, what are your preferences? Some students prefer to focus only on magic, while others make time for broader learning. You have more freedom in your first year than you might expect.”

  Kharg considered briefly before replying. “Master Ernold suggested that I spend my first term focusing on the more mundane subjects. My magical knowledge is already strong for a new student, so I would like to build a broader foundation first. Perhaps you could list and recommend some suitable classes?”

  Argus’ brows lifted slightly, as though pleased by the answer. “A sensible approach,” he said, nodding once. “If that is your wish, let me suggest a few options—ones that do not conflict with each other in the weekly timetable, at least not under normal circumstances. There may occasionally be irregular lectures or fieldwork that cause overlaps, but we do our best to avoid such clashes.”

  He began sorting parchment sheets into an organized stack. “Mathematics and natural sciences are a must. I would also recommend law, history, and heraldry—especially for a mage who might one day serve in courts or among noble company.”

  Kharg gave a short nod. “That seems wise enough.”

  “Good,” Argus said. “Now, the University building offers a range of lectures attended by both mages and the children of merchants and nobles. Many have no magical talent at all, but the instruction gives them the erudition expected of their station. You would gain much from these classes as well.”

  He paused to straighten the stack of parchment in front of him, scanning one of the sheets before continuing. “For instance, there is Arcane Relics and Enchanted Artifacts, which gives a broad introduction to magical items and their histories, with a few case studies on notable relics. I’d also suggest the Bestiary of the Dark-Folk races—an overview of goblins, orcs, ogres, trolls, and the other peoples often grouped under that term. The course does not go deeply into tactics or specific strengths and weaknesses, but it lays the groundwork for later study.”

  Kharg inclined his head. “That would be useful. Please add it.”

  “Very well. There is also Infernal Studies: Demonology and its counterpart Infernal Studies: Diabolism. Both are survey courses on the natures of demons and devils, their planes, and their hierarchies. More advanced courses later on delve deeper into the intricate hierarchies, detailed studies of individual planes, or the strengths and powers of specific entities. Few students choose both of these introductory classes, but for an aspiring mage they provide a strong grounding.”

  Kharg’s eyes lit slightly with interest. “Include both. I trust your judgment.”

  Argus looked pleased. “Excellent. I also recommend Necrology: Undead and Spirits of the Dead, which pairs well with those courses. Draconic Lore and Natural History is likewise an introductory lecture, covering the main types of drakes and dragons and their general habits. Planar Studies: Elementals and Genies provides an overview of the elemental planes and their denizens, with occasional in-depth lessons on more prominent entities.”

  “Add them,” Kharg said without hesitation.

  “Assuming we avoid overlapping schedules, there’s still room for a few more,” Argus said, tapping another parchment. “For practical knowledge, there is Mineralogy and Metallurgy and a companion course, Mineralogy: Stones and Precious Gems. Both are introductions, enough to recognize key materials without becoming a full scholar of the earth sciences. Toxins, Venoms, and Alchemical Poisons offers a basic understanding of natural and alchemical toxins, useful for any traveler or alchemist. Finally, Natural History: Flora and Alchemy and Natural History: Fauna of the Known Lands rounds out courses offered this semester. At least the ones that don’t require other courses before them.”

  “That sounds ideal,” Kharg replied. “I trust your recommendations.”

  Argus set aside the stack, now much thicker than usual, and chuckled softly—impressed by the young man’s resolve. “That is certainly an ambitious schedule,” he said. “It might be done, though you would find your days very long indeed. Many students would balk at such a schedule, yet if you commit to it, you will be far better prepared than most who pass through these halls.”

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  Kharg smiled faintly. “That is exactly what I want.”

  Argus made a final note on the parchment, the scratch of his quill deliberate and precise. “Then we’ll arrange it. Expect long days, young man, but you will leave this place with a foundation broader than most. Few regret such effort later in life.”

  Kharg glanced at the stack of parchment now set aside for him. The schedule was packed with subjects that offered a comprehensive start. Yet a part of him hesitated. He had come here to grow as a mage, and though Ernold had advised focusing on mundane studies at first, the thought of setting aside magical practice for months felt deeply unsatisfying.

  “I wonder,” Kharg said slowly. “Would it be possible to add something more advanced in the magical arts as well? Perhaps a class that builds on what I already know.”

  Argus studied him for a moment, then nodded. “That is not unreasonable. If you wish to push yourself further, you might consider Magical Circle Lore and Applied Magical Circles. These classes have already begun, but you already know some of the fundamentals, and I have a hunch you will be able to catch up. They are mainly attended by novices and apprentices, though journeymen sometimes join them as well.”

  Kharg gave a short nod. “Add them, then. I would prefer to stay challenged.”

  Argus adjusted the schedule, clearly approving. “That should provide the challenge you are looking for and strengthen your magical abilities as well. I propose a magical subject that doesn’t interfere with any of your other courses, at least not on the regular schedule. The lectures are held in the left wing, where the apprentices and journeymen have most of their classes.”

  Nodding, Kharg asked, “Speaking of these ranks, could you explain a little of what all of this means—the badges and the ranks?”

  Argus leaned back in his chair, folding his hands as he gathered his thoughts. “Of course. I’ll start with the badges.” He paused briefly, as if considering what to say before continuing, “Your badge signifies both your rank and your place within the Academy. Every badge, insignia, or emblem carries meaning, showing the holder’s responsibilities and privileges. You’ll soon learn to recognize them at a glance, but let me give you an overview.”

  He reached for a small wooden tray on his desk, where several sample badges were kept for reference. Holding up a bronze piece, he said, “Students without magical talent who attend the University building wear a bronze badge etched with a seven?pointed star. They study mundane subjects only and cannot enter the areas for the non-mundane subjects.”

  Next, he set down the bronze badge and picked up a copper one. “Entrants, those just beginning magical training, wear a copper badge with that same star. When a student is accepted as a novice, the badge is replaced by one etched with the Mage Guild crest, a stylized flame superimposed on the star. Advancement to apprentice adds silver inlay to the crest.”

  Argus gestured to a few more ornate badges in the tray without picking them up. “From there, badges become more elaborate as a mage progresses. Journeymen wear silver badges, initiates of the first three circles have silver with gold inlays and additional circles, while full magi carry golden badges marked by further symbols of rank. Departments have their own emblems, and for those who master the elements, the badge gains symbols for each one.”

  He placed the badges back on the tray and leaned back again. “That is the general structure. It is enough to know that the farther a mage advances, the more distinctive the badge becomes. You will have time to learn all of them as you rise in rank.”

  Kharg nodded, absorbing the explanation. “That makes sense,” he said quietly, glancing at the tray once more before looking back to Argus.

  “Turning to the matter of the ranks then. Ordinarily, an entrant would begin by studying Basic Elemental Theory, but you’re an exception, your circumstances are unique. Because elemental theory would provide you little benefit, you’ll instead concentrate on mundane academic courses and receive a special dispensation to study magical circles. However, keep in mind that your privileges will still be limited. You won’t be allowed to borrow books from the library, cast spells, or use magical items without supervision from a higher-ranking guild member. These rules are in place to protect you and to ensure your magical education progresses safely and accurately.”

  Kharg absorbed the information, nodding in quiet understanding. No magic, no spellcasting, no unsupervised use of enchanted items—Sure. He supposed that was reasonable. For most people. Maybe even wise. But to him, it felt like being told not to breathe unless someone was watching. Still, if it only lasted a semester, he could live with it. He could. Probably.

  Argus then transitioned to discuss the novice stage. “Once you pass an exam assessing your general skills in mathematics, natural sciences, and theoretical knowledge in tangible elements, you will advance to novice status.”

  “Novices have a broader range of studies available,” Argus continued. “You'll have access to elementary-level lectures in Tangible Elemental Theory and basic levels in Intangible Elemental Theory. Furthermore, practical training becomes a focus with subjects like open spell lists, alchemy, magical items usage, elemental rituals, magical circles, and more. These skills build upon your theoretical knowledge with hands-on application.”

  He paused, glancing at Kharg over the rim of his spectacles. “I take it you know what open lists mean?”

  “Yes, a group of spells based on shared principles. And I suppose ‘open’ means they’re safe enough for junior students.”

  Argus gave a satisfied grunt and returned his attention to the parchment. “Exactly. You're ahead of most.”

  Before he could continue, the door creaked open and a young novice peeked into the chamber, clutching a stack of scrolls. His gaze landed on Fafne, perched lazily on Kharg’s shoulder, tail flicking.

  The boy froze. His eyes widened with a mix of awe and disbelief, as if he'd just stumbled into a legend.

  Kharg glanced at him, then at Fafne, puzzled. The faerie dragon blinked back with mild amusement, fluttering his wings. Why was the boy staring? Surely he had seen dragons before. Or—well, maybe not. Come to think of it, most people probably hadn’t.

  The boy backed out slowly, still gawking.

  Kharg turned back to Argus, faintly bemused. “Odd.”

  Argus only raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “You’ll get more of that. Most here haven’t seen anything remotely like your familiar.”

  He tapped the parchment again, settling back into his rhythm. “In fact, your familiar simplifies some of the administrative details. Since Fafne is rather... unmistakable, it will be easy to confirm your identity when attending magical circle classes, even before your novice badge is issued. I’ll make the arrangements. Given your background, I expect you’ll catch up without difficulty.”

  Kharg gave a nod, Fafne purring faintly on his shoulder as if in agreement.

  “As for apprentices,” Argus continued, “it suffices to say that their studies entail a deep dive into complex and varied forms of magic. Most of their lectures are held in the left wing. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s time.” He gave Kharg a wry look and said dryly, “But given your intended pace, I expect it won’t be long.”

  He set the last of the parchment sheets aside, then reached for a thinner sheet from a side tray. “That concludes the planning. Now, let’s put your schedule in writing.” Dipping his quill, he began to write out Kharg’s schedule in a careful, even hand, listing course names, times, and lecture halls.

  Kharg frowned slightly, noticing the difference. The sheet lacked the sheen and sturdiness of vellum. It was lighter, almost flimsy by comparison. “That’s not parchment. What is it?” he asked curiously.

  Argus glanced up, then allowed himself a small smile. “It’s called paper. A newer craft. Not half as fine as vellum, but a great deal cheaper—and improving each year. It used to crumble in your hands after a season, but these hold up for years if kept dry. For matters that don’t need to last a century, it serves us well.”

  Kharg leaned closer, intrigued. “I’ve heard the term but never seen it. How long has this been in use?”

  “Closer to a decade,” Argus replied. “It began as an experiment by scholars with little gift for magic. For a long time, magic was the only thing pursued by those with keen minds. But since the University was founded, a few have turned to invention. Like the… improvements to the sundials…”

  “The analemmatic sundial,” Kharg supplied at once.

  That earned him a sharper look of respect. “Precisely. And one of the teachers at the school has been going on about some improvement to ship’s rigging or something… Well, and then of course this excellent paper. “ Argus continued to note down courses and soon handed it to Kharg, neatly rolled. “Don’t fold it, mind you. Then it’ll break.”

  Kharg rose, tucking the roll carefully under his arm. “Excellent, seems to have covered all my questions for now. Thanks a lot!” He beamed a smile at Argus and left.

  The dormitory building echoed the architectural unity of the campus. He passed lush gardens and neatly maintained pathways on his walk, finding that they added a calming sense of order and tranquility to the surroundings. It was nearly empty, as the students were in class. Kharg walked through the quiet corridors, finally locating his assigned room. The moment he stepped through the creaking door, he thought it looked horribly plain, though functional. A small writing desk by the window and a narrow bed in a corner next to a modest wardrobe and a small chest for personal belongings.

  Kharg left the dormitory, still unimpressed by its cramped and austere rooms. Yet the practicality of living on campus outweighed his misgivings. Walking back through the bustling streets, he made up his mind to inform Farad of his decision.

  Back at the Silverwolf offices, Kharg stepped into Farad’s study.

  “Ah, you’re back already,” Farad said, glancing up from a ledger. “So, you’ve decided?”

  Kharg nodded. “I’ll take the campus lodgings. It will be more efficient than crossing the city every morning.”

  “A sensible choice,” Farad said with a knowing smile. “The Academy will consume your days, and trudging across the city will wear on you quickly. Better to live among your peers while you can.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll like it,” Kharg admitted. “The rooms feel… cramped.”

  Farad chuckled. “Cramped, yes, but practical. And it’s only for a time. You’ll thank yourself later.”

  “I appreciate your help these past days,” Kharg replied. “I doubt I would have navigated the city without you.”

  Farad waved it off good-naturedly. “Nonsense. You’ll do fine. Now, go make yourself at home there. You’ll have plenty to think about soon enough.”

  Kharg lingered a moment. “Before I go… I’ll need a few proper tunics made. The Academy’s standard ones… aren’t exactly inspiring.”

  Farad arched a brow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ah, so the proud mage-to-be refuses to be seen in rough-spun like the rest of the students?”

  “They’re not tunics,” Kharg muttered. “They’re sacks of untreated hemp masquerading as clothing.”

  Farad chuckled, shaking his head. “Practicality doesn’t seem your strong suit. If you’re set on better attire, seek out Mistress Elira—she runs a small shop near the south market. An elderly woman, works quickly and won’t cheat you on the price. Tell her I sent you, she owes me a favor or two and will see you properly fitted.”

  Kharg inclined his head in thanks, privately resolving that no one would ever see him in those ill-fitted, shapeless excuses for uniforms after this week. “I’ll do that,” he said, already imagining something far more dignified than the coarse garments the Academy provided.

  With that, he stepped out into the afternoon bustle once more, intent on finding the tailor Farad had recommended.

  The tailor’s shop lay in the heart of the bustling town, its entrance marked by a modest sign depicting a needle and thread. Inside, bolts of fabric in every imaginable color lined the walls, and mannequins donning elegant garments stood on display. He explained his requirement for several academy tunics that followed the prescribed design but in finer quality materials. She took his measurements and together they selected fabrics. The tailor then promised to have the garments ready in a few days.