Once the interrogation was over, I'd been led to my new accommodations.
I think it went well. I don't think anyone suspected me.
Except, perhaps, Cognita. My notifications were picking up suspicion and doubt from the Carved Golem - along with some other disturbing ones about someone named 'Zelkyr'.
...But, that might just be what she's like. She did say she 'oversaw' Wistram, whatever that meant. She might be the equivalent of the head of security.
That, however, was a good thing. If someone could pickup on my disguise, I'd be much more comfortable in considering Wistram a safe place for 'Earthers' to stay. Which, of course, was the main reason why I was undercover. Cara didn't trust the magical academy, and neither did I.
It was important to see just how they treated people from Earth first hand. I also didn't want to appear as Pixel until I had a good grasp on their motivations.
Sure, they were a powerful group and could probably be very helpful in tracking Riley and Sibby down, but they also might be a powerful group that would try and use my sister as leverage, or coerce her into working for them. It had happened in the past, and who knew what sort of magical Master effects they could use?
No. It was much better to see how they treated other people from Earth first. Regular people wouldn't be nearly as valuable, but there were numerous nuggets of knowledge they could be used for. Things that we took for granted.
For example, I knew some things that didn't come from my Shard. Stuff like oil wells and math. Heck, even third-hand knowledge of things like crop rotation might be a big deal if someone didn't have the idea in the first place. It didn't necessarily matter that you knew how to reproduce something, knowing it existed in the first place was a huge help.
Like, I bet that most people don't know how to make a gun or gunpowder. However, it wouldn't take a genius to say, 'don't throw an exploding ball of fire at people, take a small explosion and use its force to propel a projectile at them instead.'
You wouldn't be making a magical-machine-gun any time soon, but a cannon? That was pretty basic and would put Ailendamus' siege-crossbows to shame - especially if the cannonball itself was also enchanted.
I needed to know what Wistram's intentions were first before I could do anything else. Plus, learning about this world and its magic was a good thing too. Information was power.
Aaron looked up from his dissembled cell phone when her heard a knock at his door.
"Who is it?" He asked as he stood up to open it.
"It's Vincent."
Aaron paused for a moment. What did the boxer want with him? Aaron definitely still wanted to talk about Earth and reminisce, but they'd done that last night after Feor had run out of questions. Besides it was... he turned to look at his phone, before remembering that he'd just taken it apart again. No clock there.
Plus, the thing reset every time it was [Repaired]. He'd break the ingrained habit eventually.
He'd asked if they had a time-telling spell like in Harry Potter... and gotten laughed at once again. Apparently there was no simple time spell, and instead [Magical Clockmakers] were a thing.
"Hey! You goin' to open up, or what?" Vincent pounded on the door a few times.
Aaron jumped slightly. "Yeah." He quickly moved to the other side of the room and opened the door. An irritated Vincent stood outside alongside two annoyed looking half-elves. "Sorry, I was busy." Aaron glanced at his desk with the remains of his phone.
"Doing what?" Vincent craned his neck. "Aw, man. Your phone!" He put his hand on Aaron's shoulder and shook his head. "That sucks man, but I guess the battery ran out already, huh?"
Aaron looked confused for a second before understanding the other man's mistaken assumption. "Oh, no. Nothing like that!" He held his palms up. "Archmage Feor has a spell that can repair it. That also charges its battery! I'm just taking it apart to level [Engineer]."
"Really?" Vincent's eyebrows rose. "Heh, cool." He smiled, took his hand off of Aaron's shoulder, and then lightly punched him. "Way to game the system, my brother!"
"Oh, thanks." Wow, talk about culture shock. He hadn't been called 'brother' since he'd left Earth. "So, uh, what can I do for you?" He glanced at the irritated half-elves. "Especially this early."
Vincent's smile faded. "Ah, right. Figured I'd ask you where the gym was." He jerked his thumb at one of the half-elves. "Breska here says they don't have one. I figure it has to be some kind of miscommunication, cultural thing, so I thought I'd ask you."
"A gym?" Aaron blinked. "I, uh, don't think they have one here. You see, casting magic burns calories, and everyone's a [Mage] or something, so they, uh, don't really, uh... exercise?" He ended the sentence with an upper inflection as he looked at the two guards.
"What?" Vincent sounded outraged. "What a bunch of nerd shit." He scowled and glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice. "By the way, what's with tweedle dee and tweedle dumb here?"
Who? Oh, the guards. "Archmage Feor assigned guards to us to make sure we're safe."
Vincent gave him a flat look. "I thought Wistram was 'safe', why do we need guards?"
One of the half-elves, Aaron thought their name was Haylet, spoke up. "Didn't you hear Cognita's warning? Wistram's lower floors are dangerous. We can't have you wandering off." He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not like we WANT to follow you around all day, or stand outside your door!"
Vincent turned to him. "Then don't. Simple as that." He rolled his eyes and faced Aaron again. "If there's no gym, is there any way to get a heavy bag?" He brought his hands up and jabbed a few times. "Only so much I can train with shadowboxing."
Breska spoke up. "I already told you, we'll inform the Archmage. He'll get a [Magical Artisan] to make you one."
"Yeah?" Vincent looked at him. "And how long will that take?" He sighed and shook his head at Aaron. "Whatever. There any good place to run around here?"
"Uhm..."
"Nothing inside, but you can run all you want on the beach." Haylet added.
Vincent perked up. "Really? I've heard running on sand's supposed ta be a real good workout!" He punched Aaron in the shoulder again before turning and waving. "Thanks for the help! Talk to you later!"
The [Boxer] took off in a jog, with an annoyed Breska running after him yelling that he was going the wrong way.
...
Breakfast was already in full swing by the time Aaron made it to the Grand Hall. As was usual, he and his escort walked past the tables where hungry students were feasting on the supplied dishes. He fought the urge to hunch his shoulders.
Truth be told, he'd rather be eating in a corner somewhere. While it was great that he got to speak with Archmage Feor, he still felt out of his depth. The half-elf turned his head as if noticing Aaron's presence by magic - which was probably the case. He might not have half-moon glasses, a pipe, or a silly hat, but the Dumbledore/Gandalf vibe he gave off existed regardless.
It was the beard. It had to be the beard.
Aaron wondered how many years it would take to grow something like that. He didn't need to shave, as peach fuzz was the extent that his facial hair existed. If he had access to the Internet, he could look up the time it took to grow out two feet of hair.
Then again, half-elves might be different. They lived for a long time. Archmage Feor himself was said to be more than a century old. For all Aaron knew, it might have taken him decades to fully grow his beard.
He sighed. That was probably a secret.
Wistram's currency was both intriguing and completely annoying at the same time. He supposed that was what the result of a post-scarcity society looked like. Wistram, itself, was apparently quite expensive to attend - unless you got a scholarship and became a full member of the academy. Once you arrived, every basic need was provided for. Students got their own rooms, food was freely available and extravagant (but disappointingly - not magical), and the golems took care of any physical labor that was required.
There were still things that people wanted, but were in short supply. Stuff like spellbooks, artifacts, magical... uhm... crafting materials, and the time of teachers. Aaron knew that he was lucky. He'd been told repeatedly that Archmage Feor's time was valuable. Personal tutoring sessions were practically unheard of, but he got them.
To acquire any of those things, you normally had to trade... secrets.
Honestly, he still didn't really 'get' it, but that was how Wistram worked. He guessed that was why the mages hungered for even the slightest tidbits of details about Earth. They were used to hoarding secrets, and the secrets Aaron had were practically unheard of.
In that sense, it probably was appropriate for them to treat him like they did.
He still didn't like it. It didn't feel... earned. Just like his seat at the high table. While there wasn't a hard rule that he knew of about whom could sit where, only the top mages dared approach the large table that overlooked the Grand Hall.
Aaron's gaze swept across it. Jiahao was talking with a naga. What was her name? She was an Archmage, he should remember it. Nalii? Naili? He knew it was really long, and that people normally just called her by the first two syllables. The large man, Michail, was talking with a centaur.
Aaron did a double take. Archmage Feor hadn't managed to cast a [Translation] spell yesterday, so how was he talking? Did the centaur know Russian? At least, that was what Aaron guessed Michail's language was. It sounded like it... at least from what he vaguely remembered from movies.
Was the centaur some sort of expert? Aaron hadn't seen him at the high table before, but none of the other mages were causing a fuss, so he had to be welcome.
Food was always provided in a buffet style. Aaron and his shadow stopped by the table to load up some plates. Eggs, sausage, duck, pancakes... there was always a lot of a wide assortment of food. No house-elfs though. Just golems and [Chefs] - admittedly REALLY good [Chefs] who had skills that were practically magic.
Heck, some of them probably WERE [Magical Chefs] or something like that. So still cool, just not cool in the same way magically appearing/disappearing food would be. The golems handled the cleanup the same way they handled all the maintenance.
Aaron took an empty seat close to Archmage Feor. He wasn't comfortable enough to sit anywhere else, especially with his escort. It might be racist to say that half-elves stuck together, but they all did seem to know Feor. That meant that they were probably Centrists. The factions in Wistram weren't exactly like the houses in Hogwarts. They were more along the lines of political parties, but like everything else, they were kept secret.
Aaron only knew the leaders of the other factions, and that was only because they had introduced themselves to him following his acceptance into the school.
Archmage Feor nodded at him. "Good morning, Blackmage, I hope your final countryman knows-" His eyes glanced over. "Ah, there he is."
Aaron turned and saw Vincent entering the Great Hall next to a frazzled-looking Breska. The two seemed to bicker for a moment with the half-elf pointing at the buffet table and then the high table. Soon, the two of them had settled down next to Aaron. The table noticeably quieted when they sat down. Everyone, including the other two Earthers, glanced at pair out of the corners of their eyes.
Aaron was reminded of when he'd first arrived.
"Hey, Blackmage, that's what I'm supposed to call you, right?" Vincent was smiling despite being covered in sweat and having blood on his knuckles. "You can call me 'Boxer', heh."
"Oh, uhm, good morning, 'Boxer'." He looked at Vincent's hands. "Are you okay?"
The other boy blinked. "What?" He held up his hand. "Oh, you mean these? Yeah, I'm fine. Just scraped my knuckles against a skeleton."
"A skeleton?" Aaron had heard Cognita's warning, and knew that there were dangerous things on the lower floors that sometimes wandered up. He'd never personally seen an undead monster before.
"Yeah, damnest thing, me and Brava here were heading to the beach when we stumbled upon a couple of skeletons." He smirked. "And I don't mean bones just lyin' there. I mean, walking, talking, well... not talking, but moving skeletons, like from a movie or shit!" He waggled his fingers before making a fist. "Clocked one good." He then sighed. "It didn't stay down, Breva here had to do some magic shit to 'kill' them." He made finger quotes.
"And you didn't use a potion on your..." Aaron glanced at his hands again. "knuckles?"
"Fuck no, I ain't drinking one of those vile things unless my life's in danger!" Vincent shuddered.
Breska sighed and said. "I told you, you can just dab the potion on the wound if you dislike their taste."
"Uhn, uhn." Vincent scowled. "Fuck that noise."
"If you don't heal them quickly, they could get infected, then a potion won't work at all!" The half-elf said through clenched teeth.
"Pft." Vincent rolled his eyes. "I'll wash 'em with soap when I take my shower." He blinked. "Wait, does Wistram have showers? Tell me they have indoor plumbing!"
"Ah, yes, showers." Archmage Feor spoke up. "Blackmage told us about them. We do not have any, what was the class? [Plumbers], but it wasn't difficult to create a simulated rain room." He wistfully smiled. "Indeed, it does remind me of living in the forest and experiencing a cleansing downpour."
"So..." Aaron turned back to Vincent. "You punched a skeleton?"
"Not hard." The boxer shrugged. "I know better than to strike hard-on-hard."
"Hard-on-hard?" Feor looked intrigued, as did the other mages that were close-by. "Is that another custom from your homeland?"
Vincent furrowed his brow. "I wouldn't call it a 'custom', more like a martial art rule." He looked at the expectant faces around him. "Fine, I'll explain. You see, when you throw a punch, or a kick, or any kind of strike, you want to hit hard." He punched his palm for emphasis, and got blood on it. "But we can punch a lot harder than our bones can take. So if you hit something hard, like a wall or the other guy's chin, with something hard, like your knuckles or your elbow, then both of them are going to hurt, and you'll probably break a bone."
He glanced around at the nodding [Mages] before continuing.
"So, same thing with an open-hand strike." Vincent clapped. "Your palms are soft, so you can use those to hit someone's chin without breaking your own bones. Of course, you won't break their's either, but there's more to dealing damage than breaking bones." Vincent started getting excited. "So Boxers have gloves. People think that makes us hit softer, and that's true in a sense, but the real value is we can go after the chin and chest without holdin' back." He smirked. "It actually makes Boxing more dangerous. Back when the gloves were lighter or non-existent, people mainly used body-blows." He pointed to his temple. "It's the headshots that will kill ya, but they're also some of the coolest punches."
"Fascinating." Archmage Feor smiled. "I have met [Martial Artists] in my time, though I have never been to, oh what country is that, oh yes, Pomle. I didn't know that it was so... advanced."
Aaron wasn't sure about that. Sure, Earth had technology, but surely a world of adventure and magic had experienced fighters. Although... who really fought with their hands? It was just as stupid to bring nothing to a knife fight as it was to bring a knife to a gun fight.
Wait, was that how the saying went?
Regardless, it wasn't like an Archmage like Feor would get into a bare-handed brawl. In fact, the elderly half-elf had probably never even considered such a thing. Aaron supposed he could see the... novelty in Vincent from that perspective.
"Yeah, I was thinkin' 'bout gettin' some brass knuckles. Y'know, compress the striking point. Transfer the shock along the entire arm. Not to mention being punched by metal's a lot worst than bone." He sighed. "Too bad they're illegal. Plus, they'd probably mess with my [Boxer] class."
"Brass knuckles are illegal?" Aaron blurted it out. That couldn't be right, could it?
"I know, right?" Vincent turned to him. "Guns need a license, but anyone can carry. Cops will put you away if you carryin' a lump of metal tho'." He then mumbled something under his breath that Aaron didn't catch.
"And... you know a lot about these... guns?" Feor stared at Vincent intently.
"Nah, man. All I know is that you don't point the barrel at yo self." The [Boxer] started digging into his food, and slowly the rest of the conversations at the table picked back up.
Aaron pondered Vincent while he ate. He wasn't sure what he thought about the other Earther. Boxing didn't interest him, but they might have other things in common. He leaned over. "Isn't it like Hogwarts? A magical school! Spells!"
Vincent looked up from his plate. "I suppose." His gaze shifted out over the Great Hall. "Lots of weird lookin' people." He smirked. "That's cool." He frowned. "I do have some questions." He motioned towards Breska with his head. "My bodyguard over here wasn't very forthcomin' with the deets."
"Oh?" Aaron straightened up. "Anything I can help with?"
"Sure." Vincent looked at his half-elf guard who was still studiously ignoring him. "I get that elves are, like, agile and shit. Not to mention, uhm, agin' real slow, but are all of 'em magical?"
Hmmm... Aaron thought about what Feor had told him. "Okay, so they're half-elves, not elves. All the elves died out a long time ago. I don't think all of them are [Mages], but they supposedly have more, uhm, affinity for magic?"
"Ah, gotcha." He glanced to his side. "You think I upset Bresco by callin' him an elf, instead of a half-elf?"
Aaron tried not to look at Breska. "Possibly. I think you messing up his name is more likely to be the case."
Vincent smiled. "Hey, you gotta know where you stand. If someone won't correct you when you get their name wrong, then that's on them isn't it? Not like he ever told me anyways, I just picked it up from what other people said."
"Oh. Okay." As long as he wasn't doing it completely just to piss Breska off, that might be alright...
"So the centaurs are centaurs, right? I'm not gettin' that name wrong am I?"
"No. They're centaurs." Aaron glanced over at the one standing next to Michail. The pair had ceased talking to each other. "I don't know how much you know about ancient Greek myths, but it might not be best to bring some of that up."
Vincent laughed. "Don't have to worry about that! I can't blab what I don't know!" He took another bite of his food. "Okay, so what's with the headless people in armor? I mean, that's strange."
Aaron nodded. "Those are Dullahans. I haven't, actually, talked to any. I'm not sure what would be considered rude."
"Gotcha. Don't want to piss off the guys in fullplate." Vincent gestured with his fork. "What about the... reptile-people? Why do some of them not have legs?"
"You must mean the Archmage." Shoot! What was her name? Now he felt bad about thinking less of Vincent for forgetting Breska's. "She's an, uhm, advanced Lizardfolk." He stared at the Archmage before quickly looking away. "They, uh, evolve? The ones with the legs are the way that Lizardfolk are born, but they can change as they get older, into, uhm, Nagas, Lamias, Gorgons?" Aaron wasn't sure about what he was saying, and he didn't want to tell Vincent something that wasn't true. "Sorry I'm not much help."
Vincent put his fork down and patted him on the back. "No worries. You still know more than me!" He picked his utensil back up and looked around the hall. "I guess the only other group we haven't gone over are the zombies. You think they'll be mad about me punching a skeleton?"
Zombies? Aaron followed Vincent's gaze. "Those aren't zombies, they're Selphids."
"What's that? They look dead to me."
"Well... they are dead, kinda, but they aren't undead." Right, so what was that about Death Magic? "[Necromancers] are banned, but undead like zombies still naturally occur." Somehow. He'd need to ask Archmage Feor about that. "Selphids aren't actually what you're seeing. They're a race that inhabit the dead."
Vincent turned and stared at him. "Inhabit the dead."
Aaron swallowed. "Uhm, yeah. I'm not sure exactly how, but they live inside dead bodies. I think I've heard them complain about not having fresh ones in Wistram." What else? "They mainly live on Baleros, that's a continent. And, uh, they're cool? I mean, they don't bite other people and turn them into zombies, or kill them for their bodies or anything like that."
"Hmmmm..." Vincent hummed. What was he thinking? Was he worried about being around dead people? "I wonder if I could get one to spar with me. I bet they don't bruise, so they could probably keep up - even as amateurs."
Huh?
Today he was Galei the Centaur.
He actually already knew a great deal about Aaron Vanwell, Blackmage, the human from Earth. While not an 'Archmage', he still had his ways and the Ullsinoi faction saw a lot. It was hard to trick a [Trickster], and it was hard to fool an [Illusionist]. Thus, he was not as surprised as the other high-level [Mages] of Wistram when they'd learned about Earth.
Sure, the counsel had known about Blackmage in a general sense, but few outside of the Centrists had gotten any direct access. For now, that had changed.
Not that Galei would bet against Feor re-asserting his monopoly. The Centrists were one of the most powerful factions in Wistram and had a lot of clout. If he was a betting centaur, and he was, he'd give odds on Feor doubling down on how dangerous the knowledge was and how contained it needed to be.
And who else but him out of the Archmages could keep such a secret? Not Nailihuaile - she was too 'flighty', never mind that she'd sought out one of the Earthers at breakfast. Not Viltach - he was too distracted by Ailendamus' latest war and rumors of another 'Archmage'. Not Amerys - she was... 'indisposed'.
Indisposed. What a nice way to say 'locked up because the King of Destruction was waking and she'd go to his side and help him re-claim his empire'.
Galei wasn't sure what he, or the Ullsinoi would do about Feor's ambition. If pressed for a vote, he'd probably only cast a single one. Him monopolizing the knowledge of Earth was a temporary thing. Even as tightly held as secrets were in Wistram, they were still passed around as currency. The relevant revelations would reveal themselves to the rest of the rabble given time.
Galei wasn't worried about that, instead he was far more interested in Michail Miroslavov, or 'Михаил Мирославов'. He did love language - twisting the meaning of words was a hobby, so speaking with the Earther from Russia or 'Россия' was refreshing.
Doubly so, since Michail was interested in books more than fighting, despite his size. The first question he'd asked once presented with the amulet of [Translation] was 'will this allow me to read english'?
The conversation that had followed wasn't about magic, or different races, or levels, or anything that Galei would expect a person from Earth to have questions about. Instead, Michail had focused on books. History books. Medical books. Romance books. Fiction books. Books about current events. Children's books.
Ironically he'd inquired about nearly every type of book except the obvious one - Spell books.
When asked, he'd just shrugged his shoulders and said: 'knowledge of magic is important, but useless without context.'
Galei had to think long and hard about that statement. It was... profound in a way that Wistram wasn't. He'd elected to continue the conversation with Michail and joined him for breakfast. Galei the Centaur did not usually sit at the High Table, in fact he never 'sat' there. The short tables at the edges of the Great Hall were much more comfortable. There, a centaur could lay down and eat. To get to a comfortable height at a 'normal' table, he'd need to kneel and his knees just weren't up for that level of punishment.
The other mages had given him the side eye, but no one had tried to drive him off with any spells - they knew better than that. Plus, he had every right to be up here.
Like most of the table, Michail had fallen silent when Vincent had started talking. Unlike the rest, Michail didn't resume his conversation once it was clear the [Boxer] was focusing on eating. Instead he just zoned out.
Galei nudged him. "You okay?"
Michail shook his head. "sorry, just got a little lost with the translation amulet." He pushed his plate away and stood up. "i think i will return to my room and read for a while." He nodded his head. "thank you, galei."
"Of course!" Galei smiled as he left - on the outside. On the inside, he was frowning and narrowing his eyes. The truth spell he kept active had just triggered. Michail had lied. It wasn't a big lie, but that made it all the stranger.
...
Today she was Taxiela the Lizardfolk.
Taxiela walked through the library in the 4th tower on the middle East side of Wistram. It was virtually abandoned - only golems frequented it to clean or kill off infestations of silverfish.
...Not that the pests got too big here for the same reason that students didn't visit: the books here contained no magic.
Sure, reading might not be the most popular of pastimes in Wistram, but people still liked to do it to relax. There were a few [Wizards] around that were more scholarly than [Mages]. There was also the Scribes faction.
But the thing was, there were a LOT more mundane books and libraries than magical ones, even here. So, an out-of-the-way place like this was perfect if you wanted a little peace and quiet.
...Or to meet up for an illicit rendezvous, but that surely wasn't what the Earther was doing. How could he have met someone so soon? Unless... he'd started a relationship with one of his half-elven minders?
Taxiela smiled to herself as she slipped invisibly through the doors. As a rule, she didn't do boring things, but she'd manage. It wasn't like you could prank people all of the time. Setting things up took a lot more work than people gave the Ullsinoi credit for.
With a hop, Taxiela landed on top of one of the bookshelves. Her landing was silent and didn't even disturb the dust. She then crept forward until she was perched above Michail.
And there she waited.
The only sounds were the gentle flipping of paper and the faint sound of Michail's minder snoring. The large man scanned the pages of his book, some quicker than others. There were times when he must've re-read a passage dozens of times.
Or it might be that he was a slow reader and the faster pages were just him skimming.
Or he might be trying to parse something with the [Translation] spell.
Taxiela kept herself busy by mentally reviewing the things the Elusive Lot had coming up. It would be difficult sneaking into the kitchen. The golems and the [Chefs] were protective of their territory. Messing with the food was taboo... which made it all the more tempting.
Taxiela wouldn't be altering the food itself, but if the plan worked then some specialized illusions would cause quite the stir. Sight and sound weren't the only things she could affect with her magic. She had to admit that she hadn't been paying much attention to Blackmage's ramblings, but Every-Flavor-Jelly-Beans sounded like a marvelous idea for a prank!
Too bad she didn't know what a 'Jelly-Bean' was. She thought it might be a type of slime?
It didn't really matter, the concept would work for other foods just as much.
Michail stood up. The large human placed the book he had been reading back on the shelf and started running his finger down the spines of other volumes. At least he was conscientious enough to return the book, but a golem would've taken care of it if he hadn't.
He took out another tome and returned to the table.
Taxiela stifled a yawn, and moved to get a better view. If nothing else, she could read over his shoulder. She silently cast [Eyes of the Eagle]. It was a useful spell, even if she doubted that this was what it had been created for.
Huh. Unicorn Anatomy and their uses in Alchemy? What was a valuable book like that doing here?
Oh. It was a history of Alchemy, not an application. It went on for pages and pages about how Unicorn horns and other body parts could be used, but didn't provide any concrete details. So it was doubly useless as Unicorns had died out ages ago, and it didn't list any recipes.
Yet... after half an hour of perusing it, Michail put the book in the bag of holding at his waist.
Yes. That was odd.
Taxiela decided that she'd reach out to some of her contacts on Terandria. She wanted to see if they could corroborate the Earthers' version of events.