The training room was a massive interior courtyard with walls and doors of spelled solid stone. We arrived near the end of a training session, standing in the back and observing as the officers finished their magical sparring, an impressive sight.
The elements ravaged the area, and their commanders were locked in a battle of wills. Colors and shapes flew by as some formed and deformed claws or reinforced their arms to block magic. Various weapons coated in water and fire spun by; lights flickered and dimmed as attacks slammed into barriers. A ball of fire came billowing out of the area towards us, stopping in a flash of light around five feet from our faces. Cove didn't even blink.
"We have a barrier around the area. It would take an incredible amount of magic to break through." Cove reassured me.
A whistle sounded across the area, ripping through the noises of battle. Immediately, calm fell upon the site, going from chaos to peace in seconds. The sudden silence was nearly deafening.
We left as they began discussing their matches. Cove showed me a few more areas in the building, past the interrogation room and to the prison next door. For people with such extended lifespans, it was surprisingly empty.
Cove had an explanation for that, too, catching my eye.
"The impact father and the witch's policy had on crime was undeniable. Criminals are only held until their trial. If they're found guilty, their punishment depends on the crime. If they litter, for example, they have to pick up an amount of litter proportionate to their original crime. For more severe crimes, or violent crimes, their magic and memories are stripped, and they're released into the world above. "
There seemed to be a lot of problems with that logic. "You just let murderers go? How do you keep them from killing again?"
He grimaced, uncomfortable. "We've had good luck with the memory removal."
"So you do just let them go?"
He gave in. "Yes, but no one has ever–"
I raised an eyebrow and interrupted him with a simple word. "Ava."
His grimace morphed into a scowl. "We're working on it."
They were doing an excellent job there. Not. "How do you ensure they compensate for the less severe crimes?"
It was Cove's turn to raise an eyebrow. He gestured around us. "Magic."
I was unimpressed. "That explains nothing, and you know it."
He shrugged. "It's the truth. Don't make me spell it out for you."
I rubbed my temples to soothe my non-existent headache and sighed. Cove, seeing how he won, gave a shit-eating grin. His pun hadn't even been that funny.
Our next stop was the public library, which was closed for the day. I swore I would return when it opened on Monday. My curiosity was insatiable. Were the books all in modern English? How old were they? Were the books made of magic? Or did they just detail magic? I could have asked Cove these questions, but I wanted to discover the wonders of the library for myself.
The stop after that was their College, where newfound adult mages were taught. It was a decent-sized campus with seven buildings, all made of stone with domes and Roman-style columns proudly supporting the outcropping. There was one building each dedicated to the various magic types, with the other three set aside for 'nonspecialized magic.' Centered between the buildings was a park filled with experimental gardens and stunning places of rest. Various lessons were also taught by Mages from around the world, making it an invaluable resource even to ancient mages such as Cove's father. Most of my peers would be my age or even older once I started lessons, with the courses specifically designed and fast-tracked for late discoveries such as myself. The child mages, Cove explained, had their separate school.
Thank god. As soon he'd mentioned lessons, I'd pictured myself stuck embarrassingly in a room full of children. Knowing most people would be at least my age, a huge burden had been lifted off my shoulders.
Another burden remained. Not that money was a huge issue, but… "Do the classes cost anything?"
Cheerfully and proudly, Cove replied. "Nope! They're completely free. Most of our public services are."
The residential buildings on the city's outer edge contained more customized buildings, including the colorful wood buildings I'd noticed earlier. Some were cute, personalized in style and garden choice, and others looked like your standard, nearly copy-pasted suburbs. The real beauty of the homes was their exotic gardens and yards, ranging from gardens of stone to a forest of giant mushrooms. Some were stuck in a specific season, with always blooming flowers, red and golden leaves, or freshly fallen snow. At least two had somehow managed stunning crystal gardens, their glimmering gems in the shapes and colors of trees and flowers.
Apartments were available as well. Their outsides weren't as varied or as creative as many of the homes, but a peek through their windows showed a significant variation in the interior style.
Further still past the housing were the beautiful green terraced gardens surrounding the city. I had to crane my neck nearly all the way back to see the tips of the colorful terraces. There were ten levels total, each twice the length of a football field and five stories tall. The terraces were split in half lengthwise by sparkling clear streams for watering and travel. Perfectly paced white steps and escalators were spaced evenly through the gardens. The upper-level rivulets dripped down in waterfalls halfway between each white staircase, with misty rainbows arching out to touch the next terrace.
By the time we had finished our tour, the sunlight overhead had faded, and Ventosus had set itself aglow. The previously clear waters sparkled with some kind of blue bioluminescence, and tiny blue stars swirled around the water in groups, echoing the starry sky outside. The streetlamps and windows shone with a gentle and steady white glow. The polished ceiling above reflected the lights but not the features; the reflection of the lamps and windows were the stars, and the rivers and streams were the galaxies.
The city was gorgeous.