[Dear Ms. Stone,
We are pleased to announce that as a result of your newly forged contract with the sprite, Bartholomew Bant, you have been selected for attendance at The Arcanum. Present this letter to your commanding officers and prepare to transfer immediately. Your sprite will give you detailed instructions. Again, we offer our sincerest congratulations and have included a list of recommended material for you to procure in preparation for your future studies. Welcome to the Arcanum.
Sincerely,
MS James P. Ostwick
Arcanum Administration]
Delivera read through the letter for what must've been the hundredth time since she'd received it earlier that morning. As she understood it, the letter was more for her superiors but that didn't change the fact it was a piece of physical evidence that her wildest dreams were coming true. Gaining admittance into the Arcanum was even more unlikely than winning the lottery. Until she had met Bartholomew the evening before, she hadn't even truly known the conditions for acceptance. Nobody had. Now she, a simple foot soldier from a backwater town on the outskirts of the country would be studying within the most mysterious and prestigious academy in the world.
"You're sure you have everything packed?" Bartholomew questioned. "Socks, underwear, and what not?"
"I don't wear socks," Del giggled and held up her dragon-like foot, elongated in a way that she stood on the balls of her feet with claws on the heel and toes. "I really can't wear underwear either... not anything conventional or comfortable that is." She added with a sweep of her tail.
"Right," Bartholomew cleared his throat. "Disregarding the socks and underwear. Is everything else packed? Books, writing materials, personal sources of comfort?"
"I don't have that much," Delivera replied. "I promise, it's all ready to go."
"Then, we should be on our way," Bartholomew nodded.
"It is a long walk to Sunela City," Delivera agreed. "At least two days. Do you think I'll make it in time for orientation? Mona received her contract weeks ago and left the other day…"
"Who said anything about walking?" Bartholomew questioned with a raise of his brow. As if on que, a carriage pulled up the trail across from the little hut she called home.
"I can't afford a carriage," Del looked at the sprite in alarm.
"You aren't paying for it," Bartholomew waved a dismissive hand. "What do you take me for? A barbarian? What kind of gentleman would I be if I made a young woman walk two days on a dirt path with heavy luggage? Besides, this is chump change my dear."
Del regarded him critically, but didn't argue as she heaved her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the waiting carriage. Chump change indeed. The cost of a carriage ride over such a far distance couldn't be less than fifty gold. She was lucky to see fifty silvers at any given time. For the first time since meeting the sprite, Del started to worry about what she might have gotten herself into.
Reservations about Bartholomew's spending habits aside, the past day had been a dream. In fact, she felt like she was a character from one of the fairy tales she used to read as a child.
Born to a chimera community containing mixed genetics from gargoyles, satyrs, harpies, and even some phoenix, Del was one of few who wore clothes. Frankly, between all the different characteristics that manifested amongst the community, she was one of few who could wear clothes without being inhibited, or who had visible anatomy that really needed covering.
A quiet, obedient, but antisocial girl, she had never really fit in or stood out. Once she reached her teenage years, she had voluntarily enlisted in the local militia and worked two years as border patrol while completing basic indoctrination. Upon completion, she was scheduled to transition to the main force where she would have been assigned a more specific task suited to whatever skill sets they identified in her. She essentially had a basic life with a completely mundane future forecasted to look forward to. Then, Bartholomew walked into her life.
More accurately, the sprite had manifested out of thin air, holding a piece of paper that was practically glowing and penned in gold ink. He had introduced himself and had her go over what she discovered was a contract, announcing that he had specifically selected her to be his pupil at the Arcanum. Of course, she had been skeptical about signing a contract with a complete stranger with an offer that was too good to be true, so she had initially turned him down. Not to be deterred, the sprite had spent the full afternoon trying to convince her to change her mind.
It was her father who had talked her into it, revealing he had once walked the mystic walls of the majestic tower after Bartholomew had gone out of his way to personally introduce himself to her whole family. It was at that time she actually paid attention to the terms of the contract, and found she would indeed be a fool to pass up the opportunity.
From there, everything had gone downhill. The letter had materialized, and she had presented it to her commanding officers who could only wish her well and assure her the paperwork would be taken care of. Bartholomew had then encouraged her to get a good night's sleep in anticipation for the imminent packing and departure. A restless night, many tearful goodbyes, and a quick packing session later and there she was, climbing into a carriage on her way to the nation's capital.
"Is something troubling you?" Bartholomew questioned, catching her distant gaze as the scenery flew by.
"It's just all surreal," Del admitted with a chuckle. "Why pick me of all people? I mean… never in my wildest dreams did I imagine something like this happening! I'm completely commonplace after all."
"That is a long and very complicated story," Bartholomew tugged at his collar. "And not one thing about you is 'common place,' but I digress. Let's just say that my experience in teaching thus far has lead me to the conclusion that you are the perfect candidate to be my pupil."
"Your experience?" Del questioned in amusement. "You said you'd only been teaching in the Arcanum for about a year. What experience?"
"Technically, it has been three quarters of a year," Bartholomew corrected. "But believe you me, it was enough time to learn well enough that the 'best and brightest' can often be all show and no substance."