The soft light of dawn filtered through the window of Argolaith's modest cabin, casting a warm glow across the room. As Argolaith woke up.
His limbs heavy from weeks of adventures, and let out a muffled groan. It had been a restless night filled with fragmented dreams—visions of dark forests, ancient herbs, and arcane symbols swirling in his mind.
But there was something more, a nagging thought buried just beneath his consciousness.
As his eyes fluttered open, the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. He bolted upright, the wool blanket slipping from his shoulders.
"I forgot about school!" he exclaimed, the words hanging in the still morning air. His heart sank as the full weight of his neglect came crashing down.
Weeks had passed since he last attended school. He had been so consumed with his adventures—exploring the Forgotten Forest, collecting rare magical herbs, and honing his survival skills—that he had completely lost track of time.
Argolaith swung his legs over the side of his bed, his bare feet meeting the cool wooden floor.
"This is bad. Really bad," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The school was not just a place of learning.
It was the gateway to his dream of mastering the arcane arts and making a name for himself. Neglecting his studies could jeopardize everything.
But there was no time to dwell on his mistakes. He had to act quickly.
After a brisk wash, Argolaith slipped into a fresh tunic, the fabric snug against his frame. His recent escapades had hardened him, and the faint scent of the forest still clung to his skin—a mix of earth and herbs. He paused to tie his satchel securely across his chest, the weight of the storage ring on his finger serving as a comforting reminder of his recent discoveries.
But before he faced the school, there was one thing he couldn't skip, breakfast.
His stomach growled in agreement as he rummaged through the storage ring, the magical artifact offering a near-infinite space for his supplies.
"What should I make today?" he mused, tapping a finger against his chin. After a moment, he pulled out a set of ingredients.
Fresh eggs and a random sausage crafted from one of the bizarre creatures he had hunted during his travels. The creature had been unidentifiable, its meat marbled with an iridescent sheen, but the flavor had proven unmatched.
As the sausage sizzled in the pan and the eggs cooked to a golden perfection, Argolaith allowed himself a moment of peace.
The simple act of cooking grounded him, a small oasis of normalcy amid the whirlwind of his life. He plated the food, sat at his worn wooden table, and dug in with gusto.
Halfway through his meal, another thought struck him. "I should bring something for lunch," he muttered, setting down his fork. "Something impressive, just in case I need to smooth things over."
Rummaging through the storage ring again, he pulled out a slab of troll steak. The dark, dense meat promised a hearty meal, and he decided to garnish it with slices of ancient ginseng he had recently discovered—a root so potent that it practically hummed with magical energy.
Satisfied with his choice, he stored the ingredients back in the ring, slung his satchel over his shoulder, and stepped outside. The crisp morning air filled his lungs as he began his trek toward the school.
The town was unusually serene as Argolaith made his way through the cobblestone streets.
The usual noise of kids playing were absent, replaced by merchants setting up their stalls and laborers heading to their jobs. The soft chatter of adults and the occasional clatter of wooden carts provided a tranquil backdrop to his hurried steps.
As he passed the library, he spotted Athos, the eccentric scholar, seated on the stone steps with a steaming cup of tea in hand. The older man was a fixture in the town, his presence as steady as the rising sun.
"Good morning, Athos," Argolaith called, pausing to greet him. "I brought you something that might make for an interesting cup of tea."
Athos arched a bushy eyebrow, setting down his cup.
"Well, aren't you up early? What brings you out and about at this hour? You're not exactly known for punctuality."
Argolaith hesitated, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "I, uh, may have forgotten to go to school for a few weeks. I've been… preoccupied."
"Preoccupied?" Athos echoed, his tone skeptical. "With what, pray tell?"
"Adventuring. Collecting magical plants. Learning alchemy," Argolaith admitted, producing a small vial of glowing liquid from his ring. "I even made some elixirs and medicinal pills to apologize for my absence."
Athos's eyes widened as he examined the vial. "You what? And where did you learn to do that?"
"I've been studying the books I, uh… borrowed from your old lab," Argolaith said with a grin. "They're incredibly detailed."
The mention of the lab made Athos groan, but his interest piqued further when Argolaith handed him a small bundle of ginseng. The roots glowed faintly, their age and power evident.
"This is… 13,000-year-old ginseng," Athos murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Where did you find this?"
"In the Forgotten Forest," Argolaith replied casually. "I've been eating it too. It's pretty good, though a bit tough to chew."
Athos nearly choked on his tea. "You've been eating it? Do you have any idea how tough this stuff is? It's like chewing Mythril!"
Argolaith shrugged. "I guess I'm stronger than I look."
Shaking his head, Athos waved him off. "Go. Get to school before you end up in even more trouble."
Argolaith sprinted the rest of the way, the school looming in the distance. His enhanced strength and stamina made the mile-long run seem effortless, and he arrived with a minute to spare. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he straightened his tunic and headed for the principal's office.
The principal, a wiry man with sharp eyes and an air of authority, was already seated behind his desk. He glanced up as Argolaith entered.
"You're late," he began, his tone neutral. "By several weeks."
"I can explain," Argolaith said, bowing slightly. "I've been studying magical plants and alchemy. I've even brought some elixirs and pills as proof."
The principal's gaze sharpened. "Show me."
Argolaith produced the vials from his storage ring, placing them carefully on the desk. The principal's eyes widened.
"A storage ring? Do you have any idea how rare these are?" he asked, examining the artifact.
"I found it in the Forgotten Forest," Argolaith explained.
The principal's expression darkened. "That place is incredibly dangerous."
"I know, but I've grown stronger," Argolaith assured him. "I can handle it."
After a long moment, the principal nodded. "Your work is impressive. I'll count your absence as independent study. It won't affect your grades. Now, head to class."
Relieved, Argolaith made his way to his first class. The teacher looked up from the attendance sheet, his brow furrowing as he spotted the familiar face.
"Argolaith? You're here? Where have you been?" he demanded.
"I've already spoken to the principal," Argolaith replied calmly. "My grades won't be affected. I've been making potions and elixirs."
The teacher hesitated, then nodded. "Very well. Let's continue."
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of lectures and note-taking. Though his classmates whispered and stared, Argolaith remained focused. He had missed a lot, but he was determined to catch up.
When the lunch bell rang, Argolaith made his way to the kitchen. After obtaining permission from the staff, he set to work on his troll steak. The aroma of sizzling meat and ginseng soon wafted through the air, drawing a curious crowd of students to the kitchen door.
When he finally emerged with his plate, the crowd's murmurs turned to groans of disappointment. The single, perfectly cooked steak was for him alone.
The rest of the day flew by, and as the final bell rang, Argolaith returned home. He lit the lantern in his shed and began preparing new elixirs, the events of the day playing through his mind.
"I'll make up for lost time," he vowed, the glow of the cauldron illuminating his determined expression. And so, his journey continued, one step closer to his dreams.