Leaving the Village
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Much like many of the early Renaissance workshops that doubled as academies, there were no specific scheduled that could have been called 'school years' or 'semesters'. Instead, half of the purpose of the schools were to accommodate for the increase in population that made the concept of simple master-apprentice relationships outdated—thus one of their purposes was to provide work experience to students until they could feed themselves with the work they provided to society.
This was a product of our history, which in seven thousand years since the War of the Ancients had admittedly advanced further than humans did in the histories of my last life. Considered, of course, that we measured from the start of humanity, we wouldn't have even gotten to the cultures known as the first city builders yet.
On the other hand, Quel'Thalas was twisted by its birth. Founded by the former palace servants of Queen Azshara who were too far from the action to have been sunken with the former queen of the Night Elf Empire and transformed into Naga by the Old God N'zoth, the too unimportant to have been close enough to the Well of Eternity to have been part of the main action that brought demons into the world of Azeroth and shattered the Pangaea-like continent into what it was now, or the too lowly and untalented to have been twisted by evil influences to have become Satyrs or hunted down and killed by the vengeful Night Elf remnants left from the events of the War of the Ancients… what a strange case of nature versus nurture.
Of those servants, the chiefly most talented of the lot (and that wasn't saying much) were the eight who founded the kingdom as the first King Dath'Remar Sunstrider and the seven families of the Convocation of Silvermoon. The rest were on the level of palace janitors perhaps, but with some ancient noble lineage from before the world had been sundered, which was why our kingdom was so decadent from the start—it had been part of the culture of the subsection of the society that made up of the former world-spanning empire.
Then again, it was reasonable for someone to be arrogant if they had been the servant of one of the noble citizens of an empire that once basically conquered the entire world… even if they were basically the lowest of the lowest rung of servants for the lowest of the lowest rung of nobles. In their mind, it was an honor for them to serve the queen, and no matter what, their standing was higher than anyone else in the world.
Of course, this was delusional. If they were so great, they wouldn't have been forced to migrate from the homeland.
Anyway, none of this was really said out loud, but it was easily deduced from the academy's mandatory reading.
Most schools in the kingdom were actually workshops more than educational facilities. However, because of the higher nobles wanted to seem higher still and the lower nobles were reduced to commoners over the last four thousand years, a sort of noble's or royal's academy had been founded for more than just work, but for thinkers and research and recording and learning… and, of course, networking. At this point in the history of the kingdom, it still had not been given any names as the first of its kind, being simply known as the Academy, or perhaps as the Academy of Silvermoon… despite not actually being in Silvermoon City and despite there being lesser workshop schools within the city.
Because there were no 'school years', each new student had to go through a whole host of actions that could have been considered rituals—in so far as brushing your teeth could have been considered a morning ritual—in order to 'enroll'. There was a declaration of intent through a series of letters and actions and pledges, and then a series of recommendations through meetings and interviews, and a study of the bloodline as lineage mattered more than if I even knew how to learn what was on the curriculum.
The idea was that there was power in intent.
There was magic in everything we did.
Willing declaration of the faithful joining the Academy might not have bound me against any hostile action towards it (as such a thing was really impossible without some kind of magical parasite of the body or invasion of the soul), but there was a whole section of study in the arcane arts on the topic of fate, and how if I spent a whole month making my declaration of intent to become a student at the academy I would suffer some invisible, unknown backlash in the form of some kind of karma if I betrayed the spirit of the academy in some way.
Perhaps this was just a belief, a superstition, but my people seemed to believe in this sort of thing. Perhaps half of it was just a sort of concept of honor. Or perhaps it was really a magic that could have been studied and dissected like a science. I believed this idea to be some kind of art at best, but since it was a part of the whole charade, I just had to put up with it.
They didn't test me on my language skills, or my writing ability, or how my handwriting script was, or my mathematics, or my magical theory, etc… that would come later. Coming from a world where tests were needed not just for getting into schools but also to get jobs… I felt a better jarred because I had been getting into the spirit of getting into the academia. There were no 'tests' in the sense that I was familiar with at all.
My bloodline of Windrunners was not one of the top in the hierarchy of the kingdom, as that belonged to the One and Seven, but we were pretty high up there due to the contributions of my ancestor Talanas Windrunner, who held a special position in the 'court', which governed the kingdom.
Thus, because I had the blood, I was accepted.
Since there was no concept of a group orientation, the Academy sent a senior student to pick me up. It was all very novel, so I wasn't impatient while standing outside of the village waiting for the carriage to arrive.
"I am honored and surprised that you chose me of all those available to be the one servant that you would bring with you, Master." My Caster stood about a head and a half taller than me, and about three steps behind me according to etiquette. She still wore her purple, tight-fitting, split-thigh that accentuated a hard tightness around her more defined curves and showed the soft contours of the more nuanced, sensual aspects of her body. In doing so, Medea contained an element that Alleria lacked that could be summarized as the essence of a mature woman.
I found it hard to meet her eyes and harder to look away, especially now that she no longer wore such an extravagant cowl. But whenever I did meet her gaze I found her turning away—had I offended her in some way? Unlike anime, she didn't suddenly redden when flustered or give visible cues, unlike my easily read younger sister. Even now when I was just giving her a side-long glance, I had to keep my guard up both physically and mentally as not to become a shota to be eaten by the milf. "I still need you for a lot of things, Medea."
"Would it not be better to leave me here to oversee the production line?" She wondered without actually committing anything, hiding the real reason she asked something like that.
"There is no point in expanding production because we've reached consumption capacity." I didn't beat around the bush on that matter. Assembly lines triggered my OCD. God damn Factorio. "There is no point in making more. We only need to make better, and there are enough gnomes who have gained some proficiency in engineering and magic to compensate."
My Caster smiled at me. "Oh, dear, my Master… it's like pulling teeth to get you to say that you're using me for my body… are you bringing me along for my skills then, I wonder? Perhaps my aid in your magical studies outweigh what you care for in this village."
"Even if you don't have any of your new found arcane magic skills, I would still bring you along. I'm never letting you leave me, Medea." I denied. "Never."
"Ah… I see…" Her ears twitched, similar to but not exactly alike to how Alleria sometimes acted. However, none of her other body language aspects were similar, and all the years I spent learning how to read Alleria, I found myself confused the more I stared at Medea. "Then, shall I ask how you are doing on your, ah, other studies?"
"Item Creation and Territory Creation… well, after gaining them as profession skills beside things like engineering, I haven't really put a lot of time into it… I was, uh, a bit busy?" Embarrassed, I looked away. It took a while to gain such skills from her, but I already felt fortunate and thankful to my unique capability for learning, but I had to start from nothing, which left me rather uninterested in grinding skills like those.
Medea tapped her chin and looked up in wonder. "It's not good to make excuses for yourself, Master Lirath."
It sounded like she was just teasing me, but I still felt a stab in the chest from those words. It was only because I really did feel guilty for not devoting enough time to these things… spending too much time flirting with my sister instead. Not that I would ever say playing around with Alleria was ever a waste of time, however. "Perhaps you are right, Medea. Then that is one more reason for me to bring you along with me, isn't that right?"
"If both you and I are not here, then will it really be alright?" She continued to prod.
"If they can't get along without us, then that's the real problem. Besides, I felt Alleria behind with a hundred bodyguards, and those two hundred gnomes also know how much she means to me." I paused, "I can teleport back when I need to."
"Perhaps more than just when you need to, Master?" Medea covered her lips and chuckled to herself. Now I knew she was teasing me. "Perhaps to visit your sister late at night? Who knows, the stress of a student is often enough to pressure you to look for some place to relieve yourself?"
I frowned. Was she trying to poke fun at me for touching Alleria while she was asleep or was she trying to encourage me to keep touching my little sister? "Whatever the case, it isn't like I'm not worried. Our relatives number in the dozens, and they might make moves on my sister while I am away."
"Then is it not better if you did not go away?" My Caster asked, as if that was still an option.
"It's better this way for Alleria in the long run. She needs more experience dealing with… things." While I was selfish, cruel, and cowardly, I did notice when I made a mistake. "If I stay, I will keep spoiling her…"
Medea shook her head slightly and sighed. "Oh Master, my Master. Don't you know some times a girl just wants to be spoiled by her lover? You have not married her and put babies inside her yet, so why are you already leaving her?"
That sounded like a rhetorical question. So I gave her a rhetorical answer. "I'm not even sure either of us can… besides, high elven conception rates are awfully low."
"Perhaps it is time to put some research efforts into that?" She suggested.
I nodded. Pleasurable… sex magic, maybe? But I had no resources in that field—it would have be some kind of life magic that wasn't entirely related to the classes I was familiar with. Warcraft was too much of a prude on that end; Blizzard would write about the Path of Glory, which was a road across Hellfire Peninsula paved with the bones of victims of the Old Horde's genocide of the draenei, but Blizzard wouldn't ever touch anything remotely sexual.
But that didn't mean magic relating to procreation did not exist. I just needed to find it, or make it, or something. Perhaps it was already a part of the kingdom; some crude form of proto-druidism existed in the kingdom, after all.
Certainly, it sounded more interesting than grinding the Servant class skills I gained from Caster.
"For another time, maybe," I found myself shrugging. Then I turned back to her and added, "What about your coin thing? Still no headway on that?"
Her 'coin thing' was her ability to summon a dragon in the Type-Moon universe. A lot more complexity went into it, but there her problem was that she couldn't control the dragon she could summon.
Here, the 'coin thing' didn't even work.
Not for a lack of trying…
Medea smiled sardonically. It was her turn to shrug. "This universe is more potent than my homeland, Master. Such a dragon cannot cross over so easily… and it is no conceptual item that can call forth a dragon of this world."
"Perhaps not this world then," I knew that the five main colored dragon types—Red, Black, Bronze, Blue, and Green—weren't the only dragons in this world, but some of them were simply creations that didn't even exist yet. Wait, weren't the red dragons related to life in some way…?
"Nngh… While my ability to summon a phantasmal beast is something I am studying, progress is slow." My Caster wilted. "Master, will you punish this sinful woman for her inability…?"
"I told you, no matter how much you fail or what you lack, I'm never tossing you away. Don't even think about escaping me," I grunted instinctively, almost as if she had conditioned me to say something like that… but that couldn't be it. Nevertheless, it snapped me out of my reverie—there was no way for me to negotiate with or experiment on a red dragon anyway.
"Oh…" She turned away from me so that I couldn't see her face. Her ears were flipping up and down again.
"What a sad couple we are." I harrumphed and tapped my foot. It was already nearing noon, and the carriage still hadn't arrived. "I can control my summoning but I can't summon it, and you can summon yours but you can't control it. And both they are too different that we can't just compensate for each other."
"Master! That's really unromantic!" Medea's lips thinned as she hissed her scolding at me. "Y-You can't say something like 'we aren't compatible' to a girl even if she ought to be punished! Instead, y-you should bend her over a-and—ah!"
"Oh look, the carriage is here." I perked up.
.
It was a simple—if something made by elven artisans, aged several centuries of cultural and artistic progress, and maintained with magic could be called simple—carriage of white and blue. It looked like something out of a fairy tale; and I felt like a pretty, pink princess being taken to a ball. Two elves sat at the front, one driver and the other not, and the vehicle itself was drawn by two unicorns, with similarly colored azure reins.
The driver looked to be a middle aged elf, but that could also have been how long he spent in the sun as a menial laborer causing him to outwardly age older than he was. He wore simple linens of a dark navy with a wooden badge clipped onto a thin, white sash—almost as if it were a uniform for servants.
And the other elf riding outside wore a uniform similar to mine that I had received from the school some time ago, except she wore a silver badge. Our uniform was made from a sort of prototype for mageweave—called magic weave—which was made from a silk-like plant fiber that had been treated with arcane magic. On her tall, yet athletic form, it looked not just comfortable but also sleek. The color was white lined with blue, though more elegantly dyed than the driver's clothes by a magnitude.
When the carriage halted right in beside her, the student looked down at us and raised a single eyebrow. "Lirath Windrunner?"
"Yes." I gave her another look over; blonde with her hair down, she had beautiful legs, and my gaze lingered there a while longer than necessary. "You are?"
"… how audacious. Well, I do not dislike that lack of respect." She laughed to herself, before hopping down and reaching a hand over. "I am Apprentice Shinfel Brightsworn; former student, graduated with honors in the school of conjuration, you'll become an apprentice and get picked by a master too if you finish with the Academy… not that you need one, I suppose. I heard about you from Elsharin… so I had to take a look."
Putting on a persona, I posed myself and showed that my uniform fitted me just as well as hers did her. Confidence and humor, and whatever little tricks to make a good impression. "Nice to meet you, Apprentice Shinfel, and you know I am Lirath. Well? You've had a look, so what do you think? Do you want a closer look?"
The elder elf actually made a purring sound and hummed to herself. "Mmm… I like what I see. And you'll do well at the Academy. I didn't make a mistake volunteering for this."
"I'm glad I'm worth your while," I smirked.
"You do not need to adhere to formalities, Underclassman Windrunner," She smirked as she addressed me like that, her ruby lips twisting in a spicy seductiveness. She felt… dangerous… compared to the cuteness of Alleria, or the maturity of Medea, or the bookishness of Elsharin.
I nodded, "Upperclassman Brightsworn."
Apprentice Shinfel chortled, then she waved her hands at the baggage that laid on the ground beside me. All the crates lifted into the air as if by invisible hands and settled themselves where they ought to be on the carriage before she conjured straps to hold them in place. Tapping the top of the carriage twice, she said to the driver, "I shall be joining my underclassman in the carriage."
Alright, a little piece of me felt like I was going to Hogwarts. "So how long until we're there?"
"About two days." She answered. "Unicorns are rather quick… and who is this?"
"Servant, Medea," My Caster answered.
She nodded, as if satisfied with something that she saw that she didn't comment upon. "Knows her place. That's nice. Come along then, Underclassman. There's tea inside, though I would much rather settle for a good wine."
"Tea? Really?" I felt skeptical, and a little offended. What kind of tea was this and did it even resemble what I knew as tea? Why was it that I never heard of this? Was this a fad drink that only city dwellers drank? I had too many questions. And of course, I blurted out the dumbest of them all. "How do you have tea in there?"
Shinfel stared at me as if I were an idiot. "Aren't you going to a school for mages and magisters? The answer is obviously magic, underclassman. It always is."
Stairway to Somewhere (Multicross SI?)
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Interlude 6. Meanwhile…
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Central Complex, Gnomabara
One look from the Great Teacher and he decided that their new home looked like a mythical land he had once visited known as 'Akihabara'. Thus it was in the honor of the Great Teacher's words that the new home of the gnomes was decided to be Gnomabara.
Compared to the cold, snowy mountain caves that the gnomes had endured when they had first gained consciousness two generations ago and lived in, Gnomabara was an underground paradise.
They faced no mortal enemies here. Sure, many of them had lost their relatives in the Long Migration, but for those who had survived, it was all thanks to the efforts of the Great Teacher. Without him, they would still be running from the cave bears and the mountain wolves, and the more dangerous creatures that saw the gnomes as little more than a squeaky morsel.
In this land, they could study how they wished, learn how they wished, build what they wished, and do what they wished. It was in many ways a haven, one that had been immortalized and recorded by the locally built video recorder, which had already improved by several generations since to include color, sound, smell, and taste. Their descendants would always remember the Great Teacher for being the savior that he was, and they would never forget the kindness he showed to them.
Thus, when the Great Teacher left on pilgrimage to seek new knowledge, the gnomes began to wonder if they were just too lacking. Rifts began to form in the originally wholesome community, as arguments flared and two groups rose from the disparate masses…
"Why must you 'Yandere' Faction nincompoops always hinder the advancement of progress? Don't you know that you're just going to be remembered in the history books as naysayers and morons?!" One pink-bearded gnome with a large balding spot harrumphed.
To his opposite, a gnome lady with eight green pigtails crossed her arms. "You 'Tsundere' Faction don't even understand why the Great Teacher left! It's probably because of your reckless experimentation!"
"How can you even say that?" The Tsundere Faction Leader stomped his little gnome feet. "The Great Teacher is looking for knowledge, and we have failed him by not providing him with the knowledge he wants! Do you think we can just do whatever we like everyday? Do you want to just abused our savior's good will? I say nay! We need to make greater progress… faster!"
"You think that because you cherry-pick from the Great Teacher's words." The Yandere Faction Leader sneered. "I bet you don't even remember that the Great Teacher explicitly told us NOT to accidentally destroy the world with a massive explosion!"
"But explosions are pretty! I'm sure the Great Teacher will make an exception…" The other gnome stuttered.
But he was losing his base, because the words of the Great Teacher were recorded and inscribed in the Great Book of Great Wisdom. Seeing that her opponent was losing the argument, the Yandere Faction Leader pressed her advantage, "I bet you don't even know what 'Yandere' and 'Tsundere' even mean!"
"You don't either!"
"It's an inside joke," She gloated.
"… Even so, you cannot forget the principles that the Great Teacher left us with." He muttered sullenly
At this, she had to give a point to her opponent. "While you are right that the Great Teacher has declared the Moore's Tick-Tock Law of Magitech, no where does his directives say that he wants us to build for him a clone army!"
"But we are still making clones of him in order to test the biological enhancement serums, aren't we?" He pointed out, "And besides the point, we can't even use those clones for testing if the synthetic kaja'mite pills work on his physiology… You are just standing in the way of advancement!"
"The reason for that is because the Great Teacher has explicitly declared that any clones of himself can't have functioning brains, which is the whole reason we inject those hormone treatments!" She couldn't believe that she had to repeat herself again. So this was why the Great Teacher detested politics, but declared their inevitability… she should have known. "We can test the synthetic kaja'mite in other ways anyway!"
"But the synthetic kaja'mite is only good for intellect enhancement and heightened sensed, it's not the natural stuff, you know?" He waved a sausage-like finger in her face. "You can't test that on brain dead clones and even I know that we shouldn't feed the enemies of the Great Teacher by getting new troll test subjects, and the ones that we have left are a bit… well…"
"We can supply it to… wait, I think the Great Teacher told us to find a new name for it, so I'll call our synthetic kaja'mite, ah… KZT-48." The Yandere Faction Leader tapped her chin for a moment. "Since synthesized from the arcane crystals, couldn't we just sell it to the Resident Evil Earth? I heard the Lord Merchant was looking for new products…"
"… that's not a bad idea, since we have samples of that world's humans and how they differ from us." The Tsundere Faction Leader allowed, "However! However, I still think that's still being too safe. Why do we need to observe from a whole universe away? The time it will take to get experiment data is frustrating… If only there was a way to speed things up…"
"Don't you take that KZT-48, you dingleberry." She sneered again, "Remember the Great Teacher's Holy Words—"
He nodded and spoke with her in tandem, "A good dealer doesn't use their own supply."
.
Red Lobster Seafood Restaurant, Undisclosed Location
The mall was locked down for the day. They said it was because there was a construction thing going on. No one knew the specifics, just that it was happening, and that all the stores were closed.
Surprisingly, the restaurant was still staffed, not that the staff knew what was going on. All they knew was that they were begin paid as if they were doing overtime and compensated as if they were also getting tipped on a fairly good day. Most of them could just stand around playing with their phones until around eleven thirty—near lunch time, when several men dressed in black suits walked in.
Anyone still around was ushered out, not by the men in black but by one of the two elderly statesmen who walked in after them. One of them looked like the stereotypical business man, full of scummy, slimy, disgusting filth for what passed as a soul. The other was the President of the United States while it still meant something, President Graham.
President Graham had not been a great candidate, with all the things that happened in the time of his predecessor's era, but as with the emergence of the different bio-terror threats around the world, more and more people looked to him for leadership. That wasn't even factoring all the sympathy points that he garnered with his pathos-centric speeches following the kidnapping of his daughter Ashley Graham by a strange cult named Los Iluminados.
With the return of his daughter, the settling of the Terragrigia Panic by eldritch forces, and the influx of alien technology unsettling the plans in motion, President Graham had found good footing in the political arena and even went so far as to win his second election in 2006.
As the two men settled in their seats at the main table at the center of the room, a blue portal to another place opened. It rippled like a pebble dropped in the pond of reality, not quite there, not quite glowing, but obviously radiating with power. For a moment, the men in black stood in tense attention, but then as the first person exited the portal, President Graham raised a hand, signaling that it was alright.
"I didn't expect to see you like this, Miss Wong." The President spoke with a complicated expression on his face. He looked at the sleek, tightly and sensually dressed woman as if seeing many people at the same time—and that was how he felt.
"Oh, I am still a citizen of this earth for now, Mister President. Don't look so glum." Ada Wong strutted out, followed by a cloaked, masked figured hunchbacked and carrying a metal suitcase.
President Graham smiled sardonically. For all that he was the most powerful person in the world, he could only exercise diplomacy… because he was only the most powerful when certain entities were excluded, and only on this world. "That was never my intent. It is just that I am beginning to remember how in my youth, I used to read some short stories by a rather disturbed fellow by the name of Lovecraft, you see, and I would imagine if I had to deal with the most insidious and powerful cults in his stories, it would not be so different than how I am dealing with you right now."
She smiled. "I appreciate your candor, sir."
"How did you do that…? Make me speak out…" He frowned.
Ada Wong raised a gloved finger to her lips and her smile widened slightly before her expression returned to neutrality. There was a ring on her finger, a silver band, which seemed to gleam with runes not unlike that of a certain movie franchise. "That would be telling."
The President sighed, his shoulder slumped. The time for posturing had long since passed. He wouldn't want a third term even if he could go for one, anyway. The world was just too stressful to deal with. Another two years of this, and he was looking forward to his retirement. All he could do now… all he could leave as a legacy for future Americans… was to make sure that American Hegemony over the world could still be maintained, even if he had to deal with eldritch forces. "Very well. Allow me to introduce the man beside me…"
"Director Sackler, McKesson Corporation, but also representing Amerisource Bergen and Cardinal Health in this meeting, the three corporations that formed after the dissolution of Umbrella Corporation. I am familiar with your work." The infernal woman nodded, posturing once more as the supreme femme fatale in her business. "I am Ada Wong, and this is the Merchant, who represents a certain Company, of which our alien visitor from some time ago back is a shareholder of."
"… A certain company…?" It seemed that Director Sackler had not been completely briefed on the meeting today. His eyes widened, though perhaps because of his advanced age, it took him a moment to realize that a hole in reality had opened to allow the other part to arrive.
"The Company," the strangely titled or named 'Merchant' slammed his suitcase onto the table. "Anyways, I got somethin' that might interest ya'!"
The suitcase clicked open.
Within was not what the President had expected.
He thought he would see some kind of new weapon that could overpower the bio-weapons that had become the newest fad around the world for all military industrial senatorial complexes. He would have even settled for some kind of science fiction, futuristic weaponry.
Instead, what he saw within were nine bottles of pills and nine rings. Each of these bottles of pills seemed to contain one hundred little translucent blue-green tablets smaller than a finger nail.
The Merchant smiled with his eyes, because his mouth was covered. There was something not quite right in his gaze, like a hawk looking at a mouse… but one that the President had mentally prepared himself for. He knew what he was getting into. And the man in front of him could have passed as the king of corporate rats.
He sounded so enticing, with just the right amount of smug pride in his product, but no matter how otherworldly he was, no matter how magical his product was, he was in essence a dealer preying on someone who had no other options. "KZT-48. The forty-eighth generation of this substance… modified so that it can work on humans. It can make a monkey smarter than any human, and it can elevate humanity to the next level of evolution… something you Umbrella folk seem awfully keen on."
"N-now see here, sir, I do not remember a time when I worked at Umbrella, but—" Director Sackler started an indignant tirade of the elderly.
However he was cut off by Ada Wong, who would have none of that. "You were there for two decades, Director. Do not kid yourself. Mister President, there are nine hundred doses here. They are made with substances that cannot be found in this universe. Take from this statement what you will."
"… so we aren't even dealing with aliens from other planets, we're dealing with aliens from other universes," He nodded.
"You're taking this awfully well," The Merchant stared at him.
The gaze was unnerving, but he had stared down seasoned Russian women, this was nothing. "I am well-read and I have prepared myself for every possibility. This revelation is not so… out of this world."
Ada Wong chuckled. "That you can find humor in this situation means it's not so far gone. Do you want me to introduce to rest of the products, sir?"
"Please," He nodded.
"While the medication bring exponential intellectual boost, it is a temporary thing. You cannot replicate it simply with genetic splicing or whatever biological magic that the science of our world can come up with." Miss Wong shrugged before gesturing to the rings, "However, these rings… bring permanent, though more subdued benefits. Varied, of course, including some protection through esoteric means."
"Nine for the Mortal Men doomed to die," President Graham intoned as he picked one up. He did not dare to put it on, but the temptation was there… a permanent boost to intellect. His hands trembled.
"Oh, do not be so morbid. You are not making a deal with the devil, Mister President," She watched him with dangerous eyes.
"No, perhaps not the devil," He agreed. "Perhaps something worse…"
Traveling to the Academy
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Everything I asked Shinfel Brightsworn told me that I had missed out on my arcane magic education. I should have known that using the system available to me that was too similar to the game's version of mages—and thus limiting my many magical options to only what was available to me through the eye of game balance—and learning from reading books written decades or centuries or even millennia ago were poor substitution for learning directly from masters.
For example, I was capable of casting most of the spells that I knew a normal mage could in the World of Warcraft, but I couldn't ensorcell a permanent polymorph, even though that was so common in the lore and the subject matter of one of the first quests Blood Elf players encountered on a new character. That specific quest was given by a disgruntled mage teacher who hated how lazy his two students were, so he gave the player a magic wand that could turn those two students into pigs… indefinitely.
Moreover, Shinfel herself was experienced in summoning small elemental embers, puddles, rocks, or breezes to serve as her laboratory assistants—such that she could maintain one of each at the same time. They were smart, they could converse with her, and they could do complex tasks.
On the other hand, the best I could do was bind a two meter tall water elemental that only knew how to smash enemies that got close, explode in a nova of ice, or shoot water bullets at people.
No wonder I couldn't summon Aluneth.
But I didn't feel discouraged. For all that Shinfel held so much more nuanced knowledge in her pretty mind, the high elf society as a whole didn't even know what stirrups were. We had reins and harnesses—looking at how choked the unicorns pulling the carriage told me enough—but we didn't have stirrups. She and most mages might have more knowledge in magic, but I had a vast array of knowledge for… everything else. And I had time to catch up.
Anyway, I couldn't even ask her directly about this sort of thing immediately. I wasn't that socially retarded. She was not a game NPC to be poked and prodded for information, and I had to coax the information out of her.
We talked about a lot of different things, mostly about her life at the Academy, what she liked to do, how dexterous her fingers were when she summoned her little minions…
… I didn't know that there were over one thousand students at the Academy. They were ranked by grades, where the first great meant that they weren't even 'apprentices' yet, and it was only after they gained a master that they could truly start on their journey in learning magic. There weren't any large classrooms, and any lectures wouldn't hold more than fifteen elves. For the best school in the kingdom and basically where everyone went for magical learning… one thousand did not seem like a lot.
High elves of Silvermoon, it seemed, lived like the Ancient Romans. Out of the twelve-day weeks that our people lived on, only two days were actually spent on 'school work' or working for masters, one day was spent self-learning, and the remaining nine days were spent… doing whatever students wanted to do; fishing, tea parties, ballroom dances, hunting, magical duels… that sort of thing. And for each workday, students woke up at noon because it was the 'holy hour', because of how our lives revolved around the Sun and the Sunwell, and then after three hours of work, it was time for bathing, before supper, and then light recreation, and then dinner, and then some night life before bed that might last all the way until midnight—many such night activities were actually carry-overs from the Night Elf Empire society.
Basically, I sat in shock because I realized that my work schedule had to change completely to fit this sort of new life I was entering.
"Wasn't what you were expecting, was it?" Shinfel smirked at me. She laid back in her seat as if she were completely comfortable with her surroundings—a carriage blurring across the country road—but there were some hints in her body language that told me she still felt a tinge of defensiveness.
Peeking at Shinfel's crossed arms barely containing her breasts and her similarly crossed legs showing off her milky, smooth thighs through the cuts in her robe and skirt, I couldn't help but sigh. She didn't seem to notice, though Medea smirked at me—obviously peeking into my surface thoughts again, the minx. "I thought there would be more work."
"There already is a lot of work. You will get more done with magic in one day than a commoner could in one hundred days." She tossed her hair and dismissively turned away to look at the scenery, or away from my gaze. "Besides, half the reason to attend the Academy is to meet the people there."
"Are there anyone I should know? Some secret prince or something?" I asked.
"Nothing so dramatic." Shinfel chuckled to herself, "But if you must know, there are the Four Lordlings who rule the social gatherings of the school. Most of the other students fawn over them because they are each from one of the Seven Families. They are not in their final grades too, so they aren't so stressed as to lock themselves away from the world, but they are also high enough grade that they do not need to attend any of the lectures… oh, actually, there was someone like that!"
"… so there is some drama then?" I blinked as I watched her clap her hands together and her eyes light up as she remembered.
She shrugged and her loose-fitted robes showed off her creamy shoulders and smooth nape. "Something like that… there was a commoner girl who was tested to be a distant relation of King Anasterian, but she isn't some kind of secret princess."
"Blood too distant to hold a claim to the throne or the royal family not wishing to share power with someone else who didn't really belong to their circle?" I wondered.
"It could be either, or something else." Shinfel decided. "She was allowed the Sunstrider name and she was adopted into the royal house, but Lyandra isn't talented, so she is just… there. She has no backing, or allies, or even friends. Pity, really."
"Seems like a nice girl then?"
"Oh, nothing like that." Shinfel waved me off, "I've never talked to her."
"Then why the pity?" I asked. I knew who 'Lyandra Sunstrider' was, or at least I knew a 'Lyandra Sunstrider'. The one I knew was part of the mage quest for the legendary artifact Felo'melorn, but there was no way for me to know if this elf was the elf I knew.
However, Shinfel Brightsworn turned herself to me, her expression showing that she was rather annoyed in some way. At the very least, she did not seem all that happy despite so eagerly chattering with me earlier. Her eye narrowed, "Why do you care so much about Lyandra Sunstrider anyway, Lirath Windrunner?"
"Oh, you know, I was just wondering if she was a pretty elf or not. I'll have you know that I admire beauties… but with royalty, you never know if they are all there in the head, or all that good looking. There's always too much… mysticism… surrounding royalty. A normal looking royal would look handsome just because of the family they belong to," I reasoned, before leaning over to meet her gaze again. "But that doesn't really matter, because there's clearly a pretty elf right in front of me."
"How very bold you are. Do you know the consequences of such words, Lirath Windrunner?" She eyed me dangerously.
I patted my chest mockingly, "Consequences? Of seducing a senior apprentice with enchanting beauty? You should be careful yourself, Shinfel Brightsworn. You might not be able to handle the consequences of falling in love with me."
"A challenge from a fresh arrival? You are as interesting as Elsharin led me to believe. I know about you. Your ancestor Talanas Windrunner saved many lives… of commoners, some of his deeds lent him a modicum of influence in the Silvermoon City. You are known as an eccentric and late-bloomer, but talented in artifice and merchant's craft. Still, you gained the apprenticeship under the Magister Seeker Kelen, so you must have something special about you," the older elf studied me with her gleaming sapphire gaze. A small frown creased over her brow hiding just a sliver of those glowing gems that were her eyes from me—she found me to be a puzzle.
My hands spread around me in a gesture of welcoming generosity, though perhaps I didn't look that way to the older girl sitting in front of me. "I have the unique perspective of not being hindered by the teachings of the old. So I ask questions that you already think you have the answer to. For example, the power of the Sunwell… it comes from the Sun, right?"
"… you imply it does not." Shinfel blinked and her jaw hung in surprise.
"The true source of the power of the Sunwell, and what is commonly taught, are two different things. Anyway, that's just an example." I shrugged.
"It doesn't seem like a practical example." She frowned.
I gestured to her, "Then a different one. I have been studying the anatomy, and I found that I could stimulate the body in different ways that orthodox magic teachings do not touch on. Some of these could stimulate sensitivity of the body to power, or growth of the 'container' of the body for mana, and so on. Would you like to try?"
My Upperclasswoman looked at me outstretched hand as if it could be a cobra coiled and ready to strike. Yet at the same time, a curiosity to learn burned in her eyes all the same. After a moment of silently debating internally with herself, Shinfel reached over and placed her smaller, softer fingers in my hand. "… A new magic, you say?"
"Something like that. It's not harmful," I think, I did not bother to add as an addendum.
I had been experimenting with trolls.
Some of these trolls survived to a state that could make them into primitive, feral elves. But at the same time… I did not experiment on elves, even clones of elves, yet.
One of these experiments involved pumping the trolls or proto-trolls, or proto-elves, or whatever mutant creature I had created, with arcane energy. Technically, I had no way of knowing what exactly kind of energy actually came from the gaping hole that was the Well of Eternity, which transformed dark trolls into night elves, the ancestors to today's high elves.
And I didn't exactly try to find out. Instead, I used my own mana for these experiments—it was a good way to exercise those magical muscles and grow my own capacity. In doing so, I had found out that everyone's mana was different, if only slightly—sort of like how everyone's saliva held different taste and composition.
Yet as one of the most basic magics in the Type Moon Universe tended to interfere with the body, and Medea was well-versed in the magics ranging anything from mind-reading to physical attribute reinforcement, from body puppeteering to ailment curses such as sleep, and from mutations to memory erasure… she and I had learned a lot about the anatomy of trolls on Azeroth and how they differed with humans of her world, and how both differed from the humans of the Resident Evil Universe.
I had learned many new ways to influence the body and mind from Medea, but those were just fundamentals. I didn't really have an application for these effects, only partly because I didn't like experimenting on elves yet for all the inconveniences that might come from this and because I didn't place it at a high priority anyway.
However.
However, I had already done things to my little sister Alleria, twisting her body and mind to love me. I was just too insecure about that. I couldn't help it.
Medea, on the other hand, was too well-versed a magic user not to know what I was doing to her soul. However, because of our relationship, she welcomed my taking her into my hands as if she were clay and I were shaping her into my ideal woman. She didn't mind that I wanted to reinforce loyalty and love, attraction and fascination… she relished in it.
And that was before all the experiments. Before all the new things I learned. Not enough to make a new skill profession in my user interface, as I had not applied the knowledge, but it was there, tantalizing and lingering and burning a hole in my mental world.
So I couldn't help it.
Sorry, Shinfel.
I wanna try a new trick.
I wasn't trying to kill her. I wasn't trying to test out something unknown, or expand her powers, or anything that could actually be dangerous. However, what I would do would mark her… scar her… for the rest of her life.
When I took her hand into mine, my magical energies pulsed through me and invaded into her. Remember that shit about how a mage teacher had a wand of permanent polymorph that would leave his two lazy students permanently as pigs until he thought they learned their lesson? That only applied if the caster's power severely overpowered the target. Otherwise, the target could resist, negate, or just outright ignore whatever spell came their way.
Strangely, I could overpower Shinfel.
I didn't know if it was because I was considered a 'mage' by the system's standards, or if it was because of my unique powers, or that she wasn't not a magical powerhouse that she might have become in thousands of years in the future.
She was just a senior apprentice, a researcher and student at the Academy, after all. She wasn't supposed to be an accomplished mage… so theoretically, I was more powerful?
But I wasn't trying to overpower her mind.
My magic wasn't a fucking jackhammer, after all.
Instead, it was a surgeon's scalpel… or in this case, an acupuncturist's needles or masseuse's fingers.
Since the start of this carriage ride, I had been pondering about the relation between magic and sex. I could not outright ignore everything and jump from using arcane powered magic that relied on magic to just suddenly use nature powered magic that worked off of sleepy hippy leafy shit. But I could using my arcane powered magic in such a way that it triggered specific functions within a target's body.
In this case, in this moment, the moment I held Shinfel's hand in mine, her eyes rolled to the back of her head…
… Her entire body felt as if it had gone through hours of massage…
… Her limbs fell loosely, the knots in her muscles disappeared, and the ache in her back too…
… Her slick tongue slipped out of her tiny, pink lips…
… Her skin grew hot and rosy, from cheek to neck to forearm to thighs…
… She began to pant heavily and rub her thighs together…
… A wet leakage slowly appeared at her heated loins…
… Her hips swayed in uncontrolled motions…
The carriage rocked as its wheels traveled over a pebble in the road. Shinfel Brightsworn fell forwards. She fell into my waiting and wanting arms, her eyes trying to glare, her lips trying to pout, and her mind trying to hide what her body was honest about. "What… what did you just do to me?"
"Aren't you going to a school for mages and magisters?" I smirked down at the woman in my arms, who looked so wanton and wanted so much more. For all that she tried to act still like the femme fatale, her hands clutched my arms so tightly that I felt blood circulation might become cut off soon. "The answer is obviously magic, Upperclasswoman Brightsworn. It always is."
"… Cheeky brat," Shinfel hissed up at me. But another wave of painfully powerful pleasure rushed through her from head to toe and every orifice in between. Her lips parted, and she lunged to capture mine.
I should have been expecting it, after all, I did initiate. But I was paying more attention to the way her body reacted than to the way she reacted. "Mmph!"
The Rest of the Ride
.
"What did you just do to me?" Shinfel asked as she finally came up for air.
Rookie mistake that, not breathing through the nose. Her dark ruby lips looked abused, the lust driven passion having overwhelmed her ability to regulate her strength.
Then again, she was a mage who spent her days studying. She probably never even honed her body and from her own words, the most exercise she got was riding and hunting with the other elites at the Academy.
I smiled at her. I felt superior to her; though we had our differences in knowledge, she always looked down at me during this carriage ride. I wouldn't have thought her arrogant, but there was always a certain mysterious smugness in her tone. Par for course for femmes fatales, and more over, for someone whom I knew would become one of the most dangerous and powerful warlocks in the world millenniums from now.
Seeing her not knowing why her eyes were constantly lulling back and not even noticing that she was still panting like a dog with drool slick on her tongue… it was my turn to feel smug. "A spell of a school of my creation… Looking at your face, I think it would be appropriate to call it the 'Lesser Ahegao' spell."
"A lot of novices have made such great claims of creating their own unique magic before you." She pressed herself against me, and I felt her loose robe and tunic—both made from silk—could not hide how stiff the points on her breasts were. Even as she talked, Shinfel rested against my shoulder, sniffing as if taking in my scent. "We… ahn… we see a lot of children who pretend to be almighty the moment they learned their first fireball, you know?"
In the back of my head, I realized that this was standard behavior for high elves. We were easily addicted to things, but usually that laid in the realm of magic, which was life and power. But from a certain point of view—and certainly for someone who wore silken leggings like Shinfel—sex was a kind of power. "You seem to like being so close to me. What is it, do I smell nice?"
"You smell, ahn… lovely…" She licked a bead of sweat that rolled down my neck—the minute amount of mana contained in it and emanating from my pores were drawn to the residual formation of the spell I had cast inside her. So every lick, suck, and nuzzle she made brought her closer to my power, and that brought her body not waves of pleasure but spikes of ecstasy. Faster, more intense, and rewarding her for closer contact.
She had not tried to absorb the mana, an ability we high elves had due to the closeness we worked with magical power. Was it because the spell overwhelmed her ability to do so, or was it because she wanted to enjoy it longer? "I don't smell anything."
"Don't… pretend… Lirath, tell me, what did you do to me, really?" Shinfel shook as she drew back, and a shudder ran down her spine—though she made no efforts to push my hand off the small of her back. "My magical defenses… against the elements and magics of mind and soul…"
"Ah, that's because this isn't a magic of mind and soul. I'm sure you felt it in your body. My power inside you… my mana. How does it taste, Shinfel?" I spoke to her directly and without titles—we were familiar enough for that, probably.
Her eyes narrowed, and then widened. "… You aren't bragging, are you?"
"I thought that was obvious," I nodded. "Yes."
Shinfel returned to her seat, but she made no efforts to straighten her clothes. Seeing my gaze on her bare cleavage, she beckoned me with a naughty grin. "Oh, Lirath. There's no reason for me to hide something you've already felt pressed against your chest."
"I would have expected you to have a greater sense of modesty, honestly, but I guess that the Academy is rather lax to debauchery and all sorts of indulgent behavior." I nodded, similarly not hiding that she had in her frenzy ripped open my buttoned shirt and had made a halfhearted attempt to pull my pants off.
"Not so much, I'm afraid. There are no secret orgies at the Academy—the nobles have to care for their appearances, after all." She giggled melodiously. Batting her sensual eyelashes at me, she inquired, "Why, did you hope to impress the noble ladies with your, ah… wondrous mana?"
"Weren't you impressed?" I pointed out.
Shinfel huffed, and then looked away back at the scenery outside. "Oh, you're no fun to tease, and… what you did to me has left every part of my body tingling and exhausted… I don't want to get up…"
"Interesting." I nodded and then lowered myself so that I was crouched in front of her legs. When I pressed my hands on her thighs, I really felt no resistance when I pried them apart. A rather delicious spice wafted into my olfactory nerves, and I couldn't help but press the tip of my nose against the soaked wetness before me and inhale deeply. That was a nice scent. My nose felt like I had just pressed it against a sponge I just pulled out of the ocean, however. I asked her clinically, "How many times did you orgasm?"
"Lirath Windrunner! You can't just ask a lady how many times you brought her to the peak like that! I am not a loose lady, I'll have you know… you are the first male I've… and I've never… and you… That's… that's… you're so insipid…" She muttered before yawning, her eyes fluttering.
Seeing as she didn't mind me taking a taste, I decided to give it a lick. Hm. There was a certain cinnamon and spice to her, probably due to her diet… more potent in pure arcane mana too. Very different from Alleria's or Medea's flavors. Different undertones too. Nice vintage, nevertheless. "It is a new field of magic, one that I would not like to give the forefront to anyone else, so I must improve what I can."
If it had been anyone else, they might have proclaimed themselves a genius for finding this novel way of utilizing arcane magic, but I had spent literally decades (in my hyperbolic time chamber, name pending) not that Shinfel knew this.
All she knew was that I had changed her perception of me entirely.
After all, it had been thousands of years since the foundation of the kingdom. Any spell that could have been known was already known, though some masters still improved when they could and announced their findings when they wished. However, those were masters with thousands of years of experience, not a little boy with what she knew was less than half a century of life. "… Wait, 'Lesser Ahegao'. Do you even know how spells are named? Lirath, this name implies that there is a normal or greater version of this spell, by magnitudes…"
"You aren't wrong," I nodded as I found her pink pearl, a beautiful, untouched thing and clearly needing attention from my tongue. It felt soft, and I grazed my teeth against it, causing a shudder to run up her body.
Shinfel couldn't keep her consciousness any long, unfortunately. Her head rolled back against the cushions of her seat and she closed her eyes. "I'm too… tired to deal with this… No regrets, however…"
Looking at the silly, goofy grin that sat so out of place on the sleeping elf lady's face and my own erection, I frowned. "Well, this is a conundrum."
"Ara, ara, Master," Medea draped her arms around my shoulders. Her breath was hot against my ear, and I shivered as she left a trail of nibbles from my earlobe down to my collar. Her chest was no less than Shinfel's and her arousal permeated the air. I felt her stiff little nipples drag along my shoulders. "I hope you haven't forgotten your Caster…"
I reached up and caressed the back of her hand. "I said I'll never let you go, Caster. Now, I need your service…"
Renegotiation
.
A courier waited for me at the bridge to the Academy, which stood as seven massive, ivory towers on an island some distance across the waters out of Silvermoon City. He was dressed like the servant of a noble, and exercised proper etiquette in approaching me as I exited the carriage. No carriages allowed on the Isle of the Academy.
It was late in the afternoon when we arrived. Each of the peaks of the ivory towers shone with a massive mana crystal that sparkled like a blue star. Behind us was the vibrant nightlife of the capital of the kingdom. With the gentle ocean breeze and the soft sounds of crashing waves and the thousand lights sparking awake one at a time in the city, I felt as if I had entered a sort of dreamland.
For all that I put down my people and the kingdom for being decadent and stagnant, our society was still a powerful, beautiful, slow-moving beast. Such a sight shone brightly even in contrast with the skylines of modern Earth.
The entire journey had taken several days.
I wasn't upset about having to walk the distance of the bridge to arrive at the Academy. The carriage smelled of sex. While Medea exited with grace as if nothing had happened, Shinfel was a disheveled mess, with her hair loose and her robes fallen to her elbows. She didn't even bother with the thick goo leaking between her thighs—I'd already covered all of her body and attire anyway.
Still, it seemed that I had underestimated Shinfel. Unlike the high elves in my expectations, she adapted quickly and prompted me to escalated the degree of pleasure I exercised into her nerves. When the carriage stopped, she didn't even show any signs of how shaky and out of breath she was. She just stood up and with a wave of magic, she cleaned herself up and removed scents tainting her. Then she took a perfume bottle out and sprayed herself, before straightening her robes.
All of this took less than five seconds. Shinfel left the carriage looking almost similar to Medea. If I hadn't gotten to know her over the last few days, I would have thought that she was a cold and intimidating senior apprentice.
She reminded me of many of the women I knew in the last life; capable, competent, and able to change tones and expressions at the drop of a hat.
"This has been… an enlightening experience, Lirath." Shinfel let out a breathy sigh and bumped shoulders with me. "I feel like my capacity for mana use has grow since I… well. We'll have to do this again some time."
I had to acknowledge that this was an unexpected benefit. Growing more powerful from doing lewd acts wasn't something I thought was possible in Azeroth, but in hindsight, it seemed like all types of high fantasy paths to power were possible in this universe. When we exchanged fluids containing our magical power within and absorbed that power in this way… was this an extension of the mana tap ability that all high elves had?
Perhaps it was something new.
Part of what my magic had done was guide power to course through her body, after all. It wasn't just tapping into mana, nor was it just absorption. By the end of the first day, I wanted to try to guide the mana within her liquids through my body as a means to expand on the pleasure I felt—it wasn't fair that they got to pass out with ahegao faces and I didn't, after all.
My maximum mana capacity had risen somewhere between one to five percentage points over the course of this threesome orgy that lasted approximately three days. There was significance in the numbers too—a sort of prototype erotic ritual?
There was a lot of data to study. These thoughts plagued my mind, so I only gave Shinfel a noncommittal grunt. "Hn."
Her sapphire eyes sparkled with arcane power and humor as she giggled, "Look, Lirath. Someone is expecting you."
"And you are?" I raised an eyebrow to the courier.
"I've been looking for you. Got something I'm supposed to deliver—your hands only," He said without pomp, but with a hint of dignity above that of a commoner.
"Hm. Very well." I took the letter from his hands. It was from a correspondent and customer whom I had not expected to hear from. I hadn't thought about them in a long time, because I had been too preoccupied with my own shenanigans. It was a reminder that the Troll Wars were looming ahead.
"Looks like that's it." The courier nodded. "Got to go."
"What's this, is that…?" Shinfel's eyes widened.
"You don't seem so tired after all." I noted.
The older girl smiled down at me and took the moment to place a kiss between my brows, another on the tip of my nose, before finally one on my lips. After another breathless moment that dragged on until the sky seemed to darken, she backed away. "I don't think I can think of any other boy now. You're going to have to take responsibility for that, Lirath."
"Shinfel, I warned you about the dangers of falling in love with me," I replied with my hand on my hips.
"Who said anything about love?" She laughed, "Oh, but don't tell anyone about this at the Academy, alright? I have some… unwanted suitors… and they'll cause trouble for you if they find out."
"I could just…" I paused and frowned. I wouldn't shy away from defending myself, but looking for unnecessary trouble from pissants was a waste of time. "Alright. A secret affair sounds hot too."
Shinfel's eyes danced one last time, before regaining a sort of chilly, regal poise. "Hmm… 'hot'. Some might say so. Now, shall I show you to your quarters?"
"I heard that new students weren't provided with quarters." I blinked.
"You aren't… well, new students aren't." She shrugged and threw her hair back, making no efforts to fit it. "New students and students with masters outside of the Academy are told to stay at the village outside of the facility grounds. But your master is associated with the Reliquary as well as the Royal Observatory, so you have certain privileges."
"Royal Observatory?" I frowned. What, did the Sunstriders like to study the stars?
"While the Seven keep a balance with the Royal House, the Royal House holds some authority over the magisters as a whole. The Royal Observatory holds expertise on soothsaying, scrying, record keeping… as well as the pseudo-magic schools like the school of luck." Shinfel rolled her eyes, like a science-believing modern human confronted with pseudo-science superstitions.
"So they are a secret police?" I asked.
She shook her head. "They do not enforce rules, just observe. An oversight group perhaps? Two thousand years ago, the Royal Observatory held more power, but because of the struggles between the princes of the Royal House, the Royal Observatory has been mostly defanged. Lirath, let me warn you… you shouldn't get into the muddled battlefield that is Silvermoon politics. It's… dangerous."
I looked down at the letter in my hand. My heart pounded against my ears, almost as if it were trying to escape my chest. I still feared the highest nobility of the kingdom with good reason. However, that wasn't to say I couldn't defend myself anymore. I wasn't that little kid who just learned how to teleport to the big city anymore either. "You'll find that I also have teeth."
"Children will bare their fangs at anyone because they are ignorant of the hidden dangers." Shinfel sighed. "My little underclassman, I can only help you so much. Come along now, let me show you to your new quarters… the last one to occupy it should be Elsharin, though the servants should have kept it in a good state."
"Hm." I nodded.
"Come to think of it… have you and her…?" Her lips trembled slightly.
I couldn't tell if she was just acting. She was good at keeping her real emotions hidden. "No, it's a new magic. I don't know if she would be interested."
"If it's all the same to you, Lirath," Shinfel ruffled my hair. "I'd like to keep your abilities a secret a little longer."
"You and me both," I agreed.
.
Medea and I arrived at the Falconwing Inn sometime after dinner. It was as crowded as I remembered it, with all the degenerates smoking their bloodthistle water pipes and playing their little games at the bottom floor. Purple velvet still covered the abundant cushions where elves sat and laid about leisurely, while the walls and tables were still lined with gold.
The proprietress eyed me for a moment, and we shared a nod. She didn't look like she recognized me, but she played the same tricks as a Disneyland attendant in pretending to welcome me back. I knew where I was headed, so I didn't spend any time dawdling with her.
The Gold-Blue Room laid at the end of the dark, empty hall. I could feel that protective magics on it now that I had grown in power. They had taken similar precautions before, it seemed because those arcane feelings that tingled against the hair of my arms still felt the same… it was just that now I knew they were wards seeking to detect hostility and dissuade scrying.
"Prince Nallorath. Aertin Brighthand. I see that your adventures have… changed you. Doral ana'diel?" I said from the doorway.
Aertin Brighthand looked similar to how I last remembered the elf mage. He still looked down at me from his nose with a stern smugness of superiority. However, he had a few new scars, and his clothing was less… clean. I smelled a scent of poisonous void and hostile life magic that lingered on the tips of his fingers—he had killed troll witch doctors recently.
On the other hand, Prince Nallorath had changed greatly. He wasn't laying on the bed for one, instead he stood over a table with a crude map of the northern regions of the continent that might still one day become known as the Eastern Kingdoms. He looked haggard, and no longer perfectly groomed, and like someone who had left a lift of luxury to have gone through a whole character developing adventure.
I didn't really care about what he had done, but that he still paid. Nevertheless, they knew how to reach me, so there was no point in trying to keep myself a secret from them. Then again, it was never a secret, but I didn't expect him to become a returning customer. There was no gain for him to rely on me, and I didn't see much profit in providing for a war that might never have a conclusion. The guilds would never allow me to supplant the military artisan complex of the kingdom, after all.
"Bal'a dash, Lirath Windrunner." The Third Prince greeted me with a pound of his fist on his chest. "You have come a long way from your home."
"Yes, I traveled a long way. Could we get to the business? I am weary from the journey," I said.
"You will show the Prince the respect he deserves," Mage Brighthand growled.
I gave him a look. "You haven't changed your attitude, it seems."
He sneered down at me. "And you extorted the Prince for a vial of the waters of the Sunwell. You are a greedy, jumped up commoner from the house of a jumped up commoner. You should know your place and acknowledge your benefactors."
Frowning, I turned to the Nallorath. "I didn't just come here to be insulted, Prince. If that is all you've summoned me for, I think I'll be going to bed now."
Prince Nallorath sighed and waved at the mage. "Stand down, Aertin. You will have to forgive him, Lirath Windrunner, he is still high-strung from our journey and we too have only just returned to Silvermoon over the last few days."
"You've been having fun adventuring then," I nodded.
"Fun he says… heh. I found some initial success. Thanks to your supplies, I have been able to gain a foothold on the border. I even founded a settlement here." He pointed at the rough location on the map where the future Stratholme would be.
"That was a while ago. You had not contacted me for more supplies, so I had thought our business relationship was over, Prince." I nodded as I walked closer to the map. The battle lines drawn implied that he had pushed as far southwest as Thondroril River—known right now as Greenrush River—and more than twenty pitch battles had taken place along this new border over the last few years.
"You raised the prices to an unreasonable amount, you scoundrel!" Aertin let out another outburst.
I wasn't very impressed. "I have more customers now. Surely you understand."
Mage Brighthand stalked towards me, his armor clanking with each step. Over his shoulder the Third Prince's gaze darkened. He only made the appearance of being on my side—the classic good cop bad cop tactics under a different name. "You are just a child with more wealth than you can understand. If you do not give in and serve Prince Nallorath wholeheartedly, then a more nefarious noble will take action against you if it was know that you hold such goods."
"I apologize for my bodyguard's behavior, Lirath. Truly, I do. However, have you thought about the welfare of your own cousins, and your own mother? I know there are four Windrunners who currently struggle on the front line against the trolls… I could help protect them, you know?" The Prince said.
From what I could see, he had become poorer in pure wealth in terms of what was passed around in the capital, but he had gained a duchy's worth of land greater than the territories of any of the other noble houses in the south. There was a lot more for the Third Prince to lose now than before. Moreover, he thought he needed to press me into his service…
… perhaps he had good reasons for it. A cursory glance at the scattered papers on his desk said that he had lost more than two-thirds of his original forces. Maybe he cared for those soldiers and mercenaries who followed him into the hell of war.
Maybe he was just greedy and didn't want to lose his gains. Maybe the Royal House was putting pressure on him. Anything could be a possibility. Hell, Aertin could be worried about those same companions that he fought twenty battles beside.
I didn't know what it was. They could be sympathetic, or they could not be. They didn't explain themselves, so I wouldn't know.
But right now, I wasn't feeling very charitable. "I am a business man. A company man, even. Nallorath, you should know that my prices are market prices. More waters from the Sunwell for more success on the battlefield… I don't see why that is so unreasonable."
"You little brat! Just because you can make some cheap equipment quickly doesn't mean you can bargain with your betters!" Aertin Brighthand reached over and grabbed my shoulder. He shook me with a fury that wasn't faked. "I've looked into you… you don't have any background, no secret alliances, not even your own ancestor knows what you've been up to!"
His armored hand tightened and magic pulsed through his being. It seemed like he wanted to cast a fire spell to burn into my skin to show me my place—more than one commoner had been branded in this way before. I looked down at the offending hand. "You will remove your hand, Mage Brighthand."
"Or else what?" The large elven magical warrior sneered again.
"Caster."
"My Master."
Slender, silk-covered fingers grasped the gauntleted hand. Then she crushed it. The sound of screeching metal, crunching bones, and squashed flesh filled the room. Blood splattered into a puddle. But only briefly, before the mage fell to his knees and screamed.
I stepped over Aertin Brighthand as he knelt choking as my Caster's magic surrounded him and held him in place. He tried to stop me. Admirable.
Admirable, but foolish.
"Nallorath." I said to the wide-eyed royal. "We need to have a talk."
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