Lina had a temper notorious for sparking like a flint against steel, a trait that had earned her the moniker "Madwoman" among many a magic apprentice. Her fiery disposition was only one side of the coin, however, for beneath the volatile exterior lay a fierce loyalty that Elandril had come to rely on over his trembling years at the Black Magic Academy in the city of Mosobra.
Treading a path riddled with shadows and treachery, Elandril owed his survival to more than just his cautious demeanor and resilience. A substantial part of his safety had been the sanctuary of Lina's protection. Even eight years prior, when their paths first crossed, she had already carved her name into the echelons of power, standing as a formidable Intermediate Apprentice.
In the ruthless hierarchy of the Academy, a Junior Apprentice might scrape by, avoiding the worst of the bullying. Still, it was only those who ascended to the intermediate ranks and beyond who were truly acknowledged as forces to be reckoned with. The Senior Apprentices? They were almost mythical entities, seldom crossing the ordinary apprentices' paths, ensconced in their aura of prestige and power.
Take, for instance, Lilliana, with whom Elandril had conversed just yesterday. Until that moment, her reputation had been a distant echo to him, a name whispered in hushed tones. That encounter marked his first actual dialogue with a Senior Apprentice, an experience that underscored the vast gulf between their worlds.
The blood that seeped from the emblem on Elandril's chest seemed to leach the warmth from the air around Lina, her rage a palpable frost descending upon them. However, the atmosphere shifted when Elandril recounted his recent brush with death. The assailant, Yilke, had attempted to end him but, in a twist of fate, found his own end at Elandril's hands.
As Elandril unveiled the true cause behind his injuries—the brutal impact and gnashing teeth of a mid-level magical beast known as the Brackish Behemoth—Lina's fury receded like the tide. Understanding dimmed the blaze of her anger, giving way to the calculating coldness that had safeguarded them through countless perils before. This tempered wrath, Elandril knew, was far more formidable than any unbridled tempest."Why did you seek out trouble with the Brackish Behemoth? A magical beast of that size is something even I have been reluctant to confront in the past," Lina inquired, a faint frown creasing her brow.
In the years prior, Lina had not shown such concern for Elandril. To her, he was nothing more than a sensible laboratory assistant. However, their relationship took a turn beyond mere camaraderie two years ago, warming her gradually to him, revealing a tenderness hidden beneath her icy exterior.
Thus, Elandril recounted his journey to the Brackish Behemoth's territory in search of the starlight herbs and how it ultimately led to his apprenticeship under the renowned Dark Sorcerer, Mosido.
Learning that Elandril had been accepted as an official disciple of a Dark Sorcerer, the typically stoic Lina's face finally betrayed a hint of surprise and a subtle sense of gratification.
"Becoming a disciple of a formal Dark Sorcerer is indeed a fortunate turn," she acknowledged.
"But you should have waited for me to return. The Brackish Behemoth is not something you are ready to handle on your own," Lina chided.
"Master Mosido's task had a strict deadline, and I was worried those starlight herbs would be consumed by the Brackish Behemoth, or some other misfortune might befall them," Elandril defended. "Moreover, if I had obtained the starlight herbs by relying on you, perhaps Master Mosido would not have considered me for discipleship."
The narrative, rich with underlying emotion and the intricate dynamics of their relationship, resonates with the themes of courage, growth, and the pursuit of greatness, qualities that Western readers often appreciate. The dialogues are imbued with a sense of urgency and significance, reflective of the characters' development and the high stakes in their fantastical world."To thrive in a place like Dark Realms, one must confront dangers of every sort. I cannot always live under your wing," Elandril concluded, shaking his head with a firm resolve that adorned his features.
At Elandril's words, a flicker of surprise danced across Lina's usually icy countenance, a rare shift that, unfortunately, Elandril missed. He was already posing his next concern, a question laced with the subtle urgency that had been building up in him.
"Where have you been these past two weeks? I've been fraught with worry," Elandril inquired softly, his voice a quiet stream in the heavy silence that surrounded them.
In the face of Elandril's palpable concern, the frost that had perennially encased Lina's features thawed, giving way to the ghost of a smile. It was a tender sight, one Elandril hadn't witnessed in nearly two years. The smile wasn't just born of his concern; it was a reflection of triumphs uniquely her own.
"I've been promoted to Senior Apprentice. I spent these weeks in secluded meditation within the academy's training chamber," she disclosed, her voice carrying a note of pride that resonated in the space between them.
"With this advancement, we can move to a better residence. The dormitories beyond offer far superior accommodations, whether in terms of room size or the completeness of the workstations," Lina continued, her eyes sparkling with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.
Her ascension to Senior Apprentice status was the genuine catalyst behind her smile. She yearned for Elandril to bask in her joy, to share in the sweetness of her success.
However, the thought of parting with what had been home for eight long years presented Elandril with a challenge—a resistance to sudden change. The news required him to detach from the familiar, an adjustment that wouldn't come easily in the brief span before them.This change, after all, was for a better living environment and more expansive developmental opportunities for him and Lina. Additionally, Elandril's formal acceptance as an apprentice by the Dark Sorcerer Mosido was nothing short of a double blessing for them both.
"Heh, I'll head to the Black Market to buy a fish. Let's celebrate properly today," Elandril said with a smile.
Even apprentices of magic were human, bound by the needs of sustenance that ordinary meals satisfied. Since returning to the dormitory yesterday, Elandril had sustained himself on nothing more than half a bottle of a mid-level antidote, having not eaten anything substantial.
Lina, unversed in the culinary arts, had always left the task of cooking to Elandril. Throughout the initial years of their cohabitation, Lina's gradual warming to him owed as much to his handsome features and competent assistance during their experiments, as it did to the countless little things he attended to in their daily lives.
The Black Market.
A unique commercial lane nestled within the confines of the magical academy. It was the go-to place for the academy's dark sorcerers-in-training. From casting materials, alchemical potions, and magical accessories to everyday necessities and various trinkets, one could find everything there!
Rumor had it that behind each magic shop in the Black Market stood the apprentices of advanced levels, and even the shadows of certified Dark Sorcerers. Indeed, only entities of such caliber possessed the skill and financial power to craft the respective magical equipment or alchemical potions.
By the time Elandril arrived at the Black Market, Lina was by his side, accompanying him on his journey. Together, they moved through the mystical alleyways, an aura of anticipation surrounding them as they prepared to commemorate their new chapter.Perhaps it was the stir-craziness setting in after two weeks of intensive meditation, or maybe it was concern over Elandril's not fully healed injuries, but Lina, typically a woman of few words and even fewer excursions, astonishingly accompanied him to the market that day.
Their quest was singular: to procure the "Ebony Mackerel," a delicacy unique to the subterranean dark rivers and the highlight of Elandril's agenda. This was no ordinary fish, but one of the Enchanted Creatures, its elemental prowess on par with the neophyte magic apprentices at the academy. Its enormous snout, razor-sharp teeth, and jagged spines along its body were telltale signs of a creature not of a gentle disposition.
In the heart of the black market, the "EKodak Magical Materials Shop" priced this Ebony Mackerel as a rare commodity among Enchanted Creatures, valued at eight hefty black gold coins. Having recently come into a sinister windfall from Yilke, Elandril was unperturbed by the extravagant expense.
In truth, one would be hard-pressed to partake of a whole Ebony Mackerel in the academy's dining hall without shelling out twenty black gold coins. As the standard currency in the city of Mosobra, the value of black gold had always held strong. Elandril wasn't privy to the extent of Lina's personal coffers, but his own painstaking accumulation over the years amounted to a modest twenty-something coins.
Under normal circumstances, neither low-level nor intermediate apprentices would indulge in the luxury of savoring Enchanted Creatures. It was an extravagance reserved for occasions as rare as the creatures themselves, reflecting not just one's wealth, but also a certain recklessness—an eagerness to dance on the edge of the arcane and the unknown.Though consuming these Enchanted Creatures could indeed enhance their constitutions, the vast majority of apprentices would rather spend their limited funds on spell components or magical tomes. Their priorities lay in the tangible tools of the arcane, items that promised immediate augmentation of their mystical prowess.
After securing an Ebony Mackerel, Elandril and his companion were about to depart when they encountered some troublesome individuals. Foremost among them was the scar-faced apprentice from the city walls the previous day — a stark reminder of the ruthless competition among those walking the path of magic.
Conflicts rarely erupted in the shadowy alleys, for the shops here were not places where many an apprentice dared to cause a stir. The power balance was delicate, and unspoken rules hung in the air like a spell of deterrence.
The scar-faced apprentice, known to many as Joke, and his entourage had no initial intention of troubling Elandril and his companion. However, upon seeing the Ebony Mackerel in Elandril's possession, a sinister grin spread across Joke's face. "Moving up in the world, aren't we, Elandril? Word has it you took down Yilke yesterday," he sneered with a malevolent chuckle resonating in the cramped space. "Tsk, tsk. Don't tell me you paid for this Ebony Mackerel with Yilke's dark gold?"
Surrounded by Joke's menacing cohorts, Elandril was not eager to spark a confrontation at this critical juncture. Moreover, it was apparent that Joke wasn't well-informed, oblivious to the fact that Elandril had been officially taken as an apprentice by the Dark Sorcerer Mosido. And why would he? Apart from Lilliana and Lina, Elandril hadn't breathed a word about this development to any other magic apprentice.
As for Lilliana, with her high standing, she clearly had no interest in mingling with mid-level apprentices or getting embroiled in their petty squabbles. Consequently, Joke's derision triggered a wave of hearty laughter from his entourage, their jeers a cacophony in the narrow, darkened alley, highlighting the cutthroat world these sorcerous aspirants inhabited.Not all of the apprentices were mere lackeys of Joke. For instance, among them at that moment were three Intermediate Apprentices, peers in status and power to Joke himself.
Had he been alone, Elandril might have tolerated Joke's scathing sarcasm. After all, the opposition was numerous and formidable, and Elandril had already taken the esteemed Master Mosido as his mentor. Time was on his side, and he would have ample opportunities to deal with them in the future.
However, the circumstances were different now; Elandril was not on his own.
With a sharp "swoosh," a fireball, as large as a basketball, suddenly materialized at Lina's fingertips. It was unclear when this woman had silently completed her spell's incantation, but here she was, daringly initiating an attack in the middle of the shadowy backstreets.
This colossal sphere of flame was significantly larger than the Lesser Fireball Spell Elandril could cast, larger by a whole magnitude. Moreover, the fireball was not the crimson of typical flames, but a deep, haunting blue that exuded an eerie and unsettling aura.
"Senior Apprentice!" exclaimed one discerning onlooker from Joke's entourage, unable to contain his shock. His voice, tinged with respect and a hint of fear, cut through the tension of the standoff. The title was not just an acknowledgment of rank but a recognition of formidable power, the kind that demanded respect even among the lawless chaos of the backstreets.