The wall stretched high into the air, blocks of discolored stone rising from the ground as if nature itself had sculpted the building. It reached a little way into the cloudy sky before curving over to create a dome with three other identical arches. I ran my fingers across the smoothly-hewn surface, tracing the small marks etched into each stone. Between the ancient rocks ran streams of gold and copper, seamlessly binding the entirety of the structure together. Although many thieves had attempted to carve out chunks of the precious materials, the whole of the building was protected by powerful barrier magic, preserving it through hundreds of years. I came here often to admire the beauty and power it exuded, studying the almost invisible aura surrounding the structure. The lightly glowing surface reflected some of my face, showing a head of black straight hair and large blue eyes looking back. Growing up girls had always called me cute but after I had turned fifteen the comments had turned to whispers of handsome. I didn't mind. The reflection of myself warbled like a pond rippling, which brought a smile to my face. Around me, the air was filled with the distant cries of seabirds and the salty tang of the ocean breeze, mingling with the earthy scent of the ancient stones.
Shaking myself from my admirative trance, I tromped through the muddy and dew-hewn grass around to the front of the building, where double oak doors spanned most of the entrance. The doors were complemented on either side by metal torch holders. Above the doors were the imprinted words, "Arcane Repository." Although the name would lead most to assume this was a mysterious and busy location, the Arcane Repository was only used once per year. It was raised along the tip of the peninsula, capturing the eye of any passing ship or visitor to the local town. But at the same time, it was also put away from any of the town life, far enough to reserve its own spot.
I grinned as I imagined the ornate festival soon to take place. Every year, the biggest holiday is celebrated within, known as The Acceptance. For one brief twenty-four hours, the day-to-day town life paused, and everyone, whether butcher, candlemaker, baker, or the sort, would attend. On this momentous occasion, every eligible youth of the village would enter the Arcane Repository, hoping to receive one of their very own grimoires. Although the number of commoners receiving grimoires continued to fall, I figured I might as well attend the ceremony. The worst-case scenario was failure to be picked and a continued life in the village, performing my stable hand tasks and enjoying the company of friends. However, I thought. If by some slim chance I am picked, then everything would change.
I smiled as I recalled memories of past Acceptances. Just last year, one of my friends had received a fire grimoire. Although it was only a common book of magic, the town had been jubilant over his success. Most people born in Aurelia stayed there, taking up their chosen crafts and living quiet lives. However, when something as incredible as someone from Aurelia receiving a grimoire happened, the celebration would last for days. This had only occurred twice in my life, but I remembered the festivities vividly. Considering the town had only about ten youth eligible to participate each year, anyone who became a mage instantly became a hometown celebrity. A painting of them would be made and hung next to the handful of others in the town hall. I hoped I would add to that collection this year. Recognizing my wistful thinking, I cleared my head and decided I had spent long enough admiring the Repository. I continued around the building to the dirt path that led away from the coast and back to the town.
Barely had I started on my way back when a thunderous clap sounded overhead. That was, of course, the only warning I received before a torrential downpour began. I broke out into a sprint, my long legs propelling me farther down the rolling hill and over small scraggly bushes. The ground was already beginning to turn into the sorry muddy state it was in almost year-round, one of the many coastal benefits. Although the town was not too far from the Arcane Repository, my mother's home sat along the distant edge, creating quite the journey for me.
I leaped over the last bush on the path before I found myself running on a well-loved cobblestone street. The street was the only one running through the town of Aurelia, the northernmost settlement on the continent of Eldoria. It was coincidentally also the town's only paved street, hosting all main activity.
I flew by the shoemaker and butcher's shop as the heavy rain continued to pelt me. Both shops had already lit lanterns and closed their shutters. Smarter than me, I semi-mused and chided. The dark clouds extended their reach over the coastal town, casting ominous shadows never seen at midday.
Another roar of thunder convinced me to duck into a tavern's entrance, eager to get out of the pouring rain and ominous atmosphere.
Immediately, the smells of piss-poor ale and wet clothes assaulted my nose. The tavern was a raggedy structure with low-hanging beams of oak darkened by years of pipes smoking. The walls were lit by the orange glow of torches with a low-hanging metal candle holder in the center. The floors were pockmarked with scrapes and knicks from years of service. There were only two windows which faced outward to the street, occasionally illuminated by the flashes of lightning. The tavern had no waiting area, and instead, four tables were placed around the middle of the room with a bar barely squeezed on the right side. At the back were a few booths, as much as could be managed by the small establishment. One spot of the back wall was left empty, allowing for worn stairs that led to the second floor with several bedroooms. It created a cozy, almost intimate environment.