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– –
Eldralore Academy, Eldralore
The MRAPs came to a stop outside Kelmithus' mansion – yes, mansion – adjacent to the academy itself. Apparently, this was the best place they could park their MRAPs, unless they wanted to travel from Armstrong by carriage. The Archmage had also offered some rooms, but Ryan argued it'd be better if the school didn't come to see them as 'the fancy guests who stayed at Professor ad Helis' home.'
Yeah, it was a fair point not trying to attract too much attention to themselves. Something told him, though, that this wasn't just a reflection of the man's experience in clandestine ops. Judging from the smile on the guy's face as they stepped outside, Henry could almost swear Ryan just wanted to feel like a college kid.
Maybe he could, though he reckoned it'd be more like Harvard study sessions instead of ASU ragers. The academy itself wasn't too far from the mansion; it was uphill, completely visible from his position and looked more like a castle than a school. Well, when teaching kids to throw fireballs, he supposed the serious architecture was more than necessary.
"Everyone good?" he asked, popping the door open and hopping down.
Arran stumbled out of the back seat, leaning over the grass. "Oh, I believe I am a bit… nauseous…"
Ron patted the man on the back. Hands on knees – not great, but Ron definitely wasn't gonna tell him that. "You're good bro; think of it like uh, like riding a carriage!"
"But I hate riding carriages."
"Well…" Henry scratched his shoulder, adjusting his robe. "Uh, anyway, Arran, we're not gonna be doing that again any time soon. We'll give ya a couple minutes to catch your breath."
He glanced back at his team. Looked a bit weird seeing them all decked out like adventurers, but they seemed to clean up okay in Gaerran duds. At least it'd help them fit in a bit more. Of course, they still had all their things in their Holding Bags or under their cloaks.
Henry pulled out his helmet, bringing the IVAS HUD to life. An entire magic school stood before them. No way he was gonna walk in without at least checking what it looked like on the EMF meter. The overlay popped up, aligning with what he'd expected out of the place – 500 milligauss. Not quite on the level of the various ruins they'd been through, but it made sense for one of the most magically dense areas in the city. Past that, there was nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual background ambience that seemed to permeate everything else in the world.
Arran walked up to them, still looking like shit. "I'm ready," he said.
The kid's appearance suggested otherwise, but if the kid wanted to push through despite that, then Henry wouldn't argue. He wanted to see the place as much as everyone else, probably not for the cat girls – as Ron did – but for the general curiosities he might find within.
"Alright, let's get moving then," Henry declared, hiding the helmet away.
They started on the path leading to the main gate out front. The walk to the academy was short, but it gave them a lot to chew on. This part of Eldralore was a weird mix of the market district's medieval fantasy and something almost modern – if one squinted and ignored the lack of power lines. The cobblestone streets were clean, way cleaner than any medieval-era city had a right to be. Odd modernizations, just like the aethergraph system and the amenities in the Duke's guest house.
Really, it wasn't all that different from some of the bigger state schools back home, just with a magic touch to it. Ron seemed the most… disappointed. "Huh, here I was thinking it was gonna be Hogwarts. But really, it kinda looks like UCLA."
Henry nodded. "Yeah, just swap out the football team for battlemages. Though I bet their tailgates are something else."
Walls surrounded the main entrance, stretching up and forming ramparts. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the carvings he thought to be decorations were actually runes – defensive, utility, maybe both. The practicality reminded him of the Duke's place and the Adventurer's Guild, in a way. Pretty, but functional.
Then there were the two massive statues flanking the gates. They looked as much like warriors as the knights standing beneath them. Knowing the Sonarans, these probably weren't for decoration either.
Henry nudged Arran. "Golems, I'm guessing?"
Arran grinned. "You guessed right, Captain. Those are Steel Golems; they serve as our guardians. Tier 7. They lie dormant most days, but can be roused should danger arise."
Not quite automated turrets, but these could probably handle most of the local fauna out here.
Students flowed in and out of the gate in a steady stream. Henry had expected them all to wear robes like Arran and Kelmithus, but the fashion was surprisingly diverse. Most sported what passed for 'casual wear' around here, while others donned fancier outfits or even full-on adventurer gear. The robes, it seemed, were this place's version of college hoodies, complete with an Eldralore emblem.
A few students had small creatures with them – one that looked like a black cat with wings upon the shoulder of a female mage with an eyepatch, a blue blob that Henry guessed was a Lesser Slime, and a small rodent with a rather shocking tail. Familiars. He'd seen them a handful of times at the Guild, before most of the higher-Tier adventurers left for the Campaign. The whole scene looked like something straight out of one of those animes Ron always went on about.
"Arran!" A young woman with fiery red hair waved as she passed. "New students, are ye?" She eyed Dr. Anderson and Ryan. "Though some of ye look past yer learning years… Meaning no disrespect, mind."
"None taken," Dr. Anderson chuckled.
"Ah, mind not Reena's words. She's never one to mince them." Arran turned to the woman. "These are guests of the Academy. I'm showing them about the grounds."
Reena's eyes widened slightly as she took in the group. She probably saw right through their robes, trying to place their odd appearance. "Right then. Make merry during yer stay," she said finally, before hurrying off to join a group of friends.
They moved past the gate, into the entrance hall. The inside looked pretty damn familiar, for a magic school. Felt like his own college days. Yeah, the setting was a bit different – more Oxford than the Space Force Academy – but the energy was the same. Kids lounging on benches, laughing at inside jokes. Hell, they were probably his age, if not a year or two younger. Probably shouldn't be calling them kids.
Anyway, there was the nervous energy of freshmen leaving their dorms to head to the city. The faint smell of tea and what could be magic weed, but was probably just herbs. It really reminded him of back home, just a few years ago. Same mix of excitement and terror – especially for the local commoners, though he doubted these kids were worrying about PT at dawn. Then again, who knew what counted as physical training when they could literally defy gravity? Probably whatever Sera used to do.
A few kids cracking up in the corner drew his attention. Henry glanced over – oh, great, another showoff. This one was making sparks dance between his fingers. Reminded Henry of the time Neunzeher had tried to impress everyone with his knife tricks. Went about as well as one would think – infirmary trip and a new nickname, from the basic 'Kraut' to the more distinguished 'Niner.' Fuck, they were really good with nicknames. Nine fingers, nine letters, and the dude screaming 'NEIN!' when he'd chopped it off? Made him wonder what these magic kids could come up with. 'No-Brows Landor,' maybe? Well, it was pretty hard to beat 'Queen of Cinders.'
"What's so funny?" Ron asked.
Henry nearly flinched. "Uh…" Good thing he had a damn good reaction time and that his mind was trained for quick thinking. "Just remembering our days at the Academy. So, Arran, what's our first stop?"
Arran nodded towards the grand staircase at the far end of the hall. "We'll start with a look at the main buildings, then make our way to the offices ere long. Dean ad Caldwin awaits us."
Arran headed up the stairs and they followed. And goodness were these some long ass stairs. Henry already felt the burn in his calves. Damn, these wizards must have legs of steel.
Or levitation, apparently. Two students zipped past them, feet hovering inches above the steps.
Or good ol' physical enhancement, seen by the group jumping ten steps at a time.
Dr. Anderson turned to Arran, who hadn't even broken a sweat. "Hm, a bit newer compared to the other structures in the city. Any idea on how old this place is?"
Kelmithus' protégé perked up at the question. Seemed like he was itching to talk about it. "But a century old. It was founded by Magister Trissa ad Nayron."
"Magister?" Isaac asked.
"High-ranking member of the Sanctum Arcanum," Ryan explained. Guess all those briefings and all that studying paid off for the guy.
Arran nodded. "Yet she was not merely a Magister. As with most nobles in the military or in the arcane branches, she was a formidable adventurer, one who believed true mastery of magic required more than just… study."
"Quite the martial culture," Dr. Anderson remarked.
"Yes, a necessity, given the threats we've faced. Indeed, Lady Trissa chose this very location for its proximity to the frontier. Fell beasts and ancient ruins abound, providing ample opportunity for practical instruction."
Ron whistled. "Sounds… dark."
"Stars shine brighter in the dark, after all."
Henry nodded. It was basically trial by fire – a universal concept, probably, given the fact the Sonarans seemed to embrace it.
"Though I assure you, we've taken all care," Arran said. "We don't send our students forth unprepared. They train and are always accompanied by our instructors, most of whom are at least Tier 8. Challenging, aye, but effective. Our students gain experience, and the professors revel in research opportunities."
They passed a bunch of kids chatting about new equipment in stock. Sounded like nobles ready to go on a shopping spree in the market district.
"Has it always been this… intense?" Isaac asked.
"Oh," Arran chuckled, "From what Kelmithus has said, it's actually been far more rigorous. Lady Trissa held beliefs quite radical for her time. She championed the admission of commoner students like myself. She offered scholarships to those of talent, regardless of their birth."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Bet that didn't sit well with the nobility."
"You speak true. Yet, it was hard to dispute results. It was oft the commoner students who returned with the most impressive discoveries from ruins or the best tales of vanquishing monsters. Their hunger to prove their worth drove them high, and the aristocracy welcomed them for it. And because they helped bolster our forces against the Nobians."
Finally, they crested the killer stairs, finding themselves at a bustling hallway and a set of grand doors leading to the main campus. Arran swept his hand across the sight. "And so, you'll find all manner of folk here. Noble or commoner, it matters not. If one possesses the talent and the will, the Academy's doors stand open."
Arran barely gave them time to admire the sight before he ushered them forward. "Shall we begin our tour?"
Ryan sighed. "Ah, 'cause fuck me sideways, right?"
"Dude, weren't you Delta?" Ron asked with an amused tone.
"Yeah," Ryan grunted. "I could do a hunnid more'a these sumbitches, no sweat. Don't mean I gotta like this bullshit though."
Henry patted the man's shoulder. "You'll live. Take us through, Arran."
The entrance courtyard stretched out ahead, green lawns and stone paths just like any old Ivy League campus. Somehow, the kids lounging on the grass with their floating books and the various club and event stalls posted up made Ron's claim almost believable. Was Trissa an isekai'd individual?
According to their personal tour guide, most of the concepts here came from the Arthi continent – the home of the Guilds. It was kinda like seeing a fantasy version of globalization in play, in a sense.
Hopefully, the locals didn't have any customs about staring because man, was Henry doing a lot of it. Yeah, it could be rude, but he couldn't help it! Hell, he couldn't think of a single person who could. There were all sorts of crazy types of magic beyond the elemental variations to captivate his attention. And real beastpeople – catgirls included – to captivate Ron's and Isaac's.
"That," Arran said, pointing to a massive tower in the middle of campus, "is the Central Tower. Not the most creative name, to be sure, but an apt one nonetheless. It houses our most advanced research facilities – modeled after what we know from the ruins."
"Can we check it out?" Dr. Anderson asked, damn near giving puppy eyes.
Arran shook his head. "I'm afraid it's restricted to professors and select researchers. Kelmithus would be able to bring you inside, but…" he shrugged.
Yeah, Kelmithus wasn't here; too busy at Armstrong.
"I can speak of some of the workings within, though. Magic aplenty. Novel spells and enchantments. Understandably, we've had our share of mishaps." Arran chuckled. "Naught too dire, mind you, but it's best we keep this stuff contained."
They continued on, passing by a slightly less imposing building to their right. It looked newer than the tower, but still had that same magical vibe.
"This is one of our Arcane Studies Buildings," Arran explained. "We've several spread across the grounds, each dedicated to different disciplines. This one is for our Artifice and Enchantment departments. Sir Traynam, from Red Sail, used to be a professor there.."
Red Sail… wasn't that where they got their Holding Bags? "He got snatched up after making a breakthrough on Holding enchantments?" Henry guessed.
"Indeed."
"What about the other buildings?" Dr. Anderson asked.
They walked past a few structures beside the one for Artifice and Ancient Magic. Arran pointed as he spoke. "Elemental Magic and its branches, Theoretical Magic, Practical Applications, Alchemy, that one's for dining, and yonder's a training yard. More lie scattered about the grounds, including the Battlemage Training Complex on the far side. We can visit those on the morrow, should you still have the inclination after seeing the Arena."
"Battlemage Training Complex, huh? Yeah, why the hell not? But uh, ain't somethin' already goin' on over there?"
"Pardon!" Two students ran past their little tour group, shouldering their way through a crowd that had formed by a training field.
Henry watched them go, then turned to Arran. "What's got them so worked up?"
A flash of orange light burst above the heads of the gathered students, followed by a hiss and a puff of steam.
"Ah," Arran grinned. "It seems we've chanced upon an impromptu duel. Shall we draw nearer for a better look?"
Henry looked over at Ron, then to Ryan and the others. "Yeah, why not?"
They made their way over, squeezing through the crowd. As they reached the edge of the field, another cheer went up from the spectators. Two students faced each other in the center of a 'ring' indicated by magic runes, about ten yards apart.
One was a tall, elven boy with wild hair that looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. Given the time – and if college kids here were the same as back home, he probably did. He sported a well-muscled frame that spoke of rigorous training – kinda like a budding Taldren ad Vorne. Looked like he'd be more at home in a gym than a magic school, but Henry guessed that was the point. Despite his strength, he looked nervous as hell, hands flexing like he wanted to use them, but couldn't.
The dwarf girl, on the other hand, was built like a tank – short and stocky, but he could tell she was solid muscle. Her blonde hair was buzzed short, practical. While the elf kept fidgeting, she was dead still, eyes locked on her opponent like a sniper on a target.
Both looked young for their respective races, though there was still a significant chance they were older than even Kelmithus. If he had to guess, they were probably freshmen – new and learning, though their stances and physiques suggested they were no strangers to combat.
"Taellan and Brina," Arran explained. "Both new, but already proving themselves."
An older student stood nearby, on the field with the two combatants but with some space between them. "That's Arcas," Arran added. "Third-year, serving as a referee of sorts."
The elf – Taellan – launched a volley of fireballs. Brina countered with a wall of water.
"Ooooh,and a steam bath befalls him! And now, an icicle rain dance to follow up!" Arcas boomed as Brina used the smokescreen to launch a counterattack.
"And a hit! But it takes two to dance!"
The elf let his shields absorb the hit, shooting rocks toward Brina to force her to dodge into a pair of firebolts he'd curved from the side. The rocks missed, crumbling as they impacted a shield around the ring, but the firebolts didn't. "And a curveball from Taellan! He's truly afire now! Two for both! Remember, first to five wins!"
The crowd roared as the battle fell into a short lull, the two fighters circling each other within the bounds of the ring. Then, Taellan went on the offensive, lobbing fireballs like an angry, disowned prince looking for his one chance at redemption.
"Damn," Ron muttered. "He's not messing around."
Arran nodded. "Taellan is more a man of strength than of sorcery. He depends on sheer force and physical enhancements. Hardly suited for a magic duel, to be sure."
"And Brina?" Dr. Anderson asked. "She seems quite adept at magic, for a dwarf."
"We've learned to forsake such preconceptions, actually. Elves may be hardy, and dwarves graceful. True, the stereotypes arise from some verity, and oft hold for many societies, but they don't define the students here. Brina is rather learned in magic, and a natural defender as well."
Henry analyzed Brina's defenses. She used ice to block Taellan's attacks, keeping a stockpile of shields that she moved into position whenever she needed to protect herself. "Natural defender? I guess you can't shake everything, then."
Arran chuckled. "Yes, I suppose not. Watch her timing."
Taellan's attacks eventually began to slow, looking as if he'd taken up Ryan's challenge of walking those stairs a hundred times. Henry knew exactly what this was, although he'd only seen Sera show small symptoms of it before. "Mana exhaustion."
Brina feinted with a water spell, forcing Taellan into a puddle before blasting frigid air at the elf's feet.
"Brina's advancing! It's do or die, sink or swim, freeze or – BY THE GODS!"
Taellan stumbled, foot encased in ice. A red glow surrounded it, as if trying to melt the ice. He yanked his foot out, no doubt using physical enhancement magic, but it was too late for the man. Brina's water jet caught him square in the chest – or rather, the shield protecting his chest – and sent him flying into the edge of the ring.
"And Taellan is OUT! Brina didn't even need all the points; she just turned this bout into a swimming lesson instead! Someone fetch Taellan a life jacket, for he has been thoroughly DUNKED!"
Henry clapped as the crowd went wild. "Damn good show, gotta say."
Ron turned to Henry. "Hey, not as good as Arran's duel with Kelmithus. Shit, if only we coulda seen all of it."
The crowd cleared as the two fighters shook hands and went about their respective ways.
Arran brought them back to the main path. "Ah, maybe one day. We should… erm, make our way to the administrative building now. We still must meet the Dean, Lyrus ad Caldwin."
He paused. "I must warn you however, the Dean may not be… entirely welcoming."
Henry sighed. Great. Sounded like this Lyrus guy wasn't gonna be rolling out the welcome mat for them. Well, whatever. They'd dealt with bureaucrats with sticks up their asses before. How bad could this guy be? "Alright, let's get this over with."
They followed Arran into the admin building, which stood out from the rest with its old-world charm: stone walls, fancy carpets, busts on pedestals, and elegant paintings. Damn, this place screamed 'important people only.' What, was a guard gonna pop out and ask what the hell they were doing here?
Arran led them to a door with 'Dean Lyrus ad Caldwin' in gold lettering. Looked like the kind of office where dreams went to die.
"Ready?" Arran asked.
"Yeah," Ryan grunted. "Lemme just put on my 'give-a-fuck' face real quick."
Henry smiled. "C'mon, it won't be that bad. I hope."
Arran opened the door and they walked into an office that looked like it belonged in some fancy law firm. Everything was neat and organized, like whoever worked here had OCD or something. And there, behind a massive desk, sat a real stickler of a man – it could only be the dean.
First impression? Guy looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Actually, more like there was no other place he'd rather be. As if the suffering of bureaucracy was somehow his lifeblood. Henry could feel the waves of 'I don't want you here' coming off him. Well, to each his own.
"Ah, our… guests," Lyrus said, not even trying to hide the disdain in his voice. "I suppose we should conclude this matter quickly."
Yup, it was as he had predicted. Another pencil-pusher – or… ink-dipper? Quill scratcher? – with a scroll up his ass. If Sera were here, she'd definitely roll her eyes.
Henry tried to keep his tone neutral, diplomatic. "Dean ad Caldwin, thanks for meeting with us. I'm Captain Henry Donnager –"
Lyrus didn't even bother to stand up. Just waved a hand at some chairs in front of his desk as he cut him off. "I know who you are. Sit. I'll make this brief."
"Hear me well," Lyrus started coldly. "Your presence here is tolerated solely due to my government's directive and my respect for Archmage Kelmithus' wishes. Oft I have made exceptions for those with connections to my good friend, but do not suppose you are welcome beyond that."
Henry nodded. At least the guy was being upfront about it. "We understand. We'll do our best – "
"You will do nothing," Lyrus interjected. "You are not to interfere with our scholars or instructors. Naught but observation is permitted. You will not disrupt the pursuit of knowledge within these walls, nor the order that upholds it. You are guests, nothing more. Is that understood?"
Henry bit back a sigh and nodded.
Lyrus narrowed his eyes. "Very well. I shall spare you the trouble of asking. Most of the campus is open to students. You may observe classes from the rear, but nary a word shall you speak. The library is available to you, but the restricted sections are off-limits. The Central Tower and advanced research labs are forbidden to you, on pain of my censure. Have you any questions?"
Henry glanced at his team. They all looked as thrilled as he felt. "No, Dean ad Caldwin. I think you've made everything pretty clear."
"Good," Lyrus said, already going back to the papers on his desk. "Arran will show you out. See that you cause no trouble during your stay, lest I be forced to take umbrage."
And just like that, they were dismissed. Henry stood up. Oh how he would've loved to say something snarky. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. 'Cause if they did, it'd be about as fun as a 20-mile ruck march in full gear. Actually, that'd be an insult to the march.
As they filed out of the office, Henry caught Arran's apologetic look. Poor kid looked embarrassed as hell. He sure wasn't kidding when he said that the Dean wasn't gonna be welcoming.
Once they were back in the hallway, Henry let out a long breath. "Well, that was fun."
Ron snorted. "Yeah, about as fun as a root canal. What crawled up his ass and died?"
"Us, apparently," Ryan muttered.
Arran cleared his throat. "I apologize for the Dean's… attitude. Perhaps we should continue the tour? There's still much to see."
Henry nodded. The whole interaction had been no more than a few minutes, but it was still a bother he wanted to get away from. "Lead the way, Arran. Let's get some fresh air."
After the shitshow with Dean Stickler, Arran led them back out to the courtyard. Place was bustling, even more than before, students everywhere rushing to classes or just hanging out. Ah, the good old days. Occasional fireball or floating textbook exempted, of course.
"We're now in the Main Courtyard. Over there is the Nayron Library, named after Lady Trissa."
Henry squinted at the building Arran pointed at. Looked like a classical, old-world style library with its columns and big windows, but with a twist. "Those blue gems in the windows… some kind of magic?"
Of course it was. "Fire suppression," Arran explained. "Ice magic, actually. Effective, truly, against any mishaps."
"Yeah. I guess it wouldn't do good to have another Alexandria."
"Hm?"
"An unfortunate event in our history," Dr. Anderson said with a heavy sigh. "One of the world's largest libraries at the time burned down – all that knowledge lost."
Arran understood. "As with the Baranthurians and those that came before them. We strive to preserve, that the fruits of their wisdom may not be lost to the ages."
They kept walking, spotting more of the golem statues scattered around. The layout of the place seemed pretty damn strategic. Like, whoever designed this had defense in mind – and not just against the crazy monsters a high-Tiered adventurer like Trissa ad Nayron would've faced. It was also defensible against a human – or otherwise – ground assault. Made sense, given what Arran had said about the school's location near the frontier, and the little demilitarized zone separating the city from the Nobians.
"That's gotta be the Arena, right?" Ron asked, pointing to what looked like a mini-colosseum.
"Wonderful, isn't it?" Arran seemed to get giddy. "It's where we hold most of our practical combat magic training and demonstrations – against humanoid opponents. Much like the duel you witnessed earlier, but on a grander scale. This is also where our upcoming competition will take place."
"Mind if we get a closer look?"
Arran stretched his hand, giving a slight bow as he let Alpha Team pass. "By all means."
Henry let out a low whistle. The place was huge, way bigger than it looked from the outside. No Holding Bag shenanigans here, though. It was just the grandeur and scale of it all that made it seem larger than life – kinda like a world wonder.
Rows of stone seats surrounded a large circular area in the center. The platform itself was just smooth, flat stone.
"Pretty basic setup," Isaac remarked.
Arran looked over the setup. "The arena is crafted so by design. Easy to arrange by organizers, easy to manipulate by participants, if they so choose to use earth magic in their bouts."
"And the runes?" Ron pointed to the walls.
"Defensive runes," Arran said. "When activated, they create a shield that isolates the pit from the rest of the arena. Keeps the audience safe from errant spells."
Henry felt like asking his own questions about the arena when he noticed a figure standing by the far side of the seats. The guy was tall, dressed in dark robes, and had this intense look about him. Something about him didn't seem… right.
"Hey, Arran," he said gently. With a subtle nod towards the man, he asked, "Who's the shady guy over there?"
Arran looked where Henry nodded to and froze for a split second. The cheer in his eyes faded, no longer excited about showing them around the arena. "Ah, that is… Professor Valtor ad Stron. A recent addition to our faculty, having arrived but a short while ago."
The kid's voice got tight when he said the guy's name. Interesting.
"What's his deal?" Henry pressed, keeping the professor in his peripheral vision.
"He instructs some of the more advanced students in Magical Applications in Warfare, Tactics and Strategies of Magical Engagement, and Advanced Spellcasting for Combat," Arran said, his voice a little flat. "I confess, I know little else of him, save that he was selected to fill Kelmithus' absence in those courses, and that he is a skilled magic swordsman."
Professor ad Stron seemed to notice their group, gaze likely aimed in their direction before he turned and walked out of the arena without a word.
"Friendly guy," Ryan muttered.
"Indeed," Arran said. "Perhaps we should continue our tour?"
They passed by a grand building that looked more like a five-star restaurant than a school cafeteria. The aroma wafting from it was mouthwatering – a mix of spices he could hardly recognize and freshly baked bread that reminded Henry of that fancy Michelin-starred place in New York he'd been to once. Henry's stomach growled loudly, despite the fact he'd eaten just a couple hours earlier at the Guild's tavern.
Arran chuckled. "That would be the Central Refectory. A 'cafeteria', I suppose. The victuals taste as well as they smell; they're made by professionals under the Duke's employ. And yes, before you ask, we do use magic in food preparation."
"If only we could enjoy the difference," Dr. Anderson said.
Arran tilted his head. "How mean you?"
"Well, apparently, we just shit out the magic." Henry shrugged. "Y'know, since our bodies have nothing to actually process the mana with…"
Arran lowered his head dramatically. "Verily, I weep for the mana, cast aside like so much, ahem, waste."
Ron grinned. "Hey now, it's all part of the Circle of Life, ain't it? Magic in, magic out… and then back in again, somehow."
Now that Henry thought about it, that'd mean the soil around Armstrong would be even more magic dense in the future.
"Any chance we could grab a bite later?" Ryan asked, completely unfazed by the discussion on human waste.
"Of course," Arran said, giving an amused smile. "I'd be happy to show you some of our specialties."
Passing by some more training facilities, recreational centers, and student dorms, they approached another building that looked a lot like the Arcane Studies one they'd seen earlier. Arran pointed at the emblem and large sign out front. "Ah, here we are. Another Arcane Studies Building. This one houses our Artifice and Ancient Magic Departments, wherein lie Baranthurian artifacts and other antiquities."
"Just like the ruins we explored earlier," Henry noticed, rubbing his chin.
"The very same," Arran nodded. Then, seeming to predict what he was gonna ask next, Arran preempted, "The building itself remains open to students, yet certain of the labs within are barred from passage."
Dr. Anderson stood before the structure, probably just waiting for Arran's go ahead.
"It is also where you'll be having your orientation with Professor Elwes. She's much more… welcoming than Dean ad Caldwin, to be sure."
Well, after their meeting with the Dean, that wasn't really saying much. But hey, maybe this Professor Elwes would surprise them.
"Alright then. Lead the way."
Arran brought them to a lecture hall, which was a true blast from the past – both in the sense that it yanked Henry back to his college days, and in the way it looked like they'd stepped into Europe a few hundred years past. Rows of plush seats sloped down to a podium area illuminated by light pouring in from tall windows. Only difference from reality was, instead of a whiteboard, screen, or chalkboard, there was some kind of magical surface.
A woman stood at the front, scribbling something in the air with her finger. The writing hung there, glowing slightly. It was reminiscent of the trick Kelmithus pulled when blowing everyone's minds with the Pythagorean theorem, just adjusted for a magic dry-erase board format. Pretty cool.
She turned as they entered, and Henry was surprised to see she looked pretty young. Human, maybe mid-thirties, with short dark hair and a demeanor not unlike Kelmithus'.
"Ah, you must be our American guests," she said warmly. "I'm Professor Elwes. Welcome to Eldralore Academy."
Henry nodded. Man, this lady was great. He already felt more at ease than he had with Dean Dickhead. "Captain Henry Donnager, ma'am. This is my team."
Professor Elwes smiled, exchanging pleasantries with him and his team. "Please, call me Elwes. We have but little state here, save for Lyrus, whom I daresay you've already had the pleasure of encountering."
Henry couldn't help but grin. "Oh, the greatest of pleasures."
"Fear not, it's but his manner," Elwes said with a chuckle, waving a hand. "He dispenses his… charm, shall we say, equally amongst all. Shall we proceed with your orientation?"
They took seats in the front row, and Elwes began. "We observe but few rules here, and those for good reason. Be gentle with the premises, and courteous to your fellows. I mention our caution against unbridled experimentation, though I daresay it scarcely applies to you."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "Happens often?"
Elwes laughed. "Oft, I fear. Magic and youth make a heady brew, prone to boil over."
She went on to explain the layout of the academy, handing them maps. They'd already seen most of the central area on the tour, but the outskirts were still ripe for exploration. She also added some details Arran had missed, like how the library had a section dedicated to military spellcraft. Not that they could apply such knowledge, but it could still be useful for insights.
"Kelmithus also mentioned that your people are bereft of magic," Elwes continued. "As such, I've prepared these tokens to afford you some safeguard." She held up what looked like a fancy medallion, attached to a string. "They're enchanted with basic defensive magic; they grant the wearer a magic shield. They're as formidable as those granted upon you by Kelmithus in your journeys, in case you were wondering."
Henry took the medallion. It felt slightly warm, almost like a phone that's been on for a while. "Thanks. Guess this'll come in handy if Owens here decides to try casting any spells."
Ron snorted. "Oh, if only, bruh."
Elwes grinned. "Perhaps, in days to come. Now, let us speak of access. Your tokens are fashioned after those we provide to students. They shall admit you to all areas open to our students and serve as traditional mana tokens; you'll be able to use runes by mere touch. And of course, certain areas remain barred to all but our faculty."
"Like the Central Tower?" Dr. Anderson asked.
"Indeed so," Elwes nodded. "If there be some place you wish to visit, but find barred to you, I daresay a word in my ear would suffice. I can oft… facilitate such requests."
Henry exchanged glances with his team. "We really appreciate it, Elwes."
Dr. Anderson already had a smirk on his face. Yeah, he was definitely gonna have a field day with that offer.