The Wandering Inn_Volume 1
Page 399
The gull flew off, and Illphres turned back to Ceria. She passed a hand over her face and looked expressionlessly at Ceria again.
“Everything is a moving target. You’ll never improve by aiming at stationary points.”
It was all true, but Ceria just couldn’t accept the lecture. She pointed at Illphres angrily.
“Teach me, then! Show me how to cast better spells!”
“Melt my ice first.”
Illphres looked at Ceria, and the half-Elf didn’t know what to say in reply. Illphres walked off, leaving Ceria alone to fume.
—-
Ceria didn’t stay long after her encounter with the mages. She saw them standing on the rocks, doing something close to what she’d done. The only difference was the scale. Instead of sending out orbs of light, some created actual illusions of monsters or incoming spells which they in turn warded against or shot down with their own magic.
She saw Illphres shooting countless discs of frozen ice up into the air at extreme speed and then bolts of lightning catching each one and blasting it to bits. Amerys did that for about ten minutes before she switched and started conjuring birds made of electricity which Illphres shot down in turn.
So. Other mages did what she did? Ceria walked back to Wistram, thoroughly humiliated and not a little bit angry. It was still early and she debated going back to the banquet hall for a second breakfast and to meet up with Pisces before class today. But she paused when she saw him in the hallway.
He wasn’t alone. Pisces was talking with another Human—a young man Ceria recognized with a sinking feeling in her stomach. He had a pointy noise and far too gangly legs in her opinion, but he was attired in rich, colorful clothing like a [Lord]. Which he was, she supposed. It wasn’t Charles himself, but one of his good friends.
Timor du Havrington.
He looked condescending as ever, but what was he doing here talking to Pisces of all people? Ceria stared down the busy corridor full of students hurrying about. He and Pisces were talking while they stood next to an intersection. About what?
About her?
She didn’t want Pisces to see her. Ceria pressed her back against a wall and then realized that was stupid. Instead, she mingled with a group of students going one way, watching Pisces out of the corner of her eye as she walked.
“…happen to agree with you on that point, Havrington. However…”
That was all she heard as she passed by. Ceria desperately wanted to turn and look back, but she was afraid of being spotted. And afraid, perhaps, of what she might hear. She slowly made her way back to her room and only saw Pisces again during lunch.
—-
“Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite half-Elf! Where’ve you been Ceria? We missed you at breakfast! Wait—don’t tell me. I already know.”
Calvaron’s cheerful greeting made Ceria want to pull his tail. She scowled at him and ducked as a flash of magic flew overhead. He and Beatrice didn’t seem to notice, but then, they’d erected a shield spell around their table.
“Hi Calvaron. Hi, Beatrice. What in the name of tree fungus is going on?”
She pointed across the hall at the circle of students watching two mages exchange blasts of magic, but Calvaron began laughing instead.
“What in the name of—did you hear that Beatrice? Did you hear what she said? Do all half-Elves swear by plants?”
“I did. Be polite.”
Beatrice slapped Calvaron on the shoulder and pointed towards the two fighting mages.
“It’s a duel. Seric and Zepheral are quarrelling over a wand one of them found in an unexplored room. The winner gets to keep it.”
Calvaron nodded.
“Want to place a bet? The smart money’s on Seric, but Zepheral could pull it off. I’ve got three-to-one odds on Seric.”
Pisces, eying the battle warily, ducked as a stray arrow of light splashed across the top of their shield.
“I’m ah, more worried about our safety. Do such duels occur often?”
“Worried? Hey, this shield spell won’t break from a stray shot! And yes, duels are fairly common. I’m surprised you haven’t seen any before, but then, the Council likes to ease you new students into life here. Can’t have fights breaking out on the first day.”
“And students duel for money, pride, what?”
“Anything and everything, Ceria! It’s like secrets; just another way for a mage to get ahead if they so choose. And you don’t have to fight with spells—there are spoken debates too.”
“Really?”
Pisces’ eyes lit up at that. Calvaron wagged a finger.
“Ah, ah. They’re usually decided by collective vote, so don’t go thinking the student who knows the most words wins, Pisces. It’s actually quite tricky, since you can’t rely on personal magnetism to win the debate. Those who vote have to answer under truth spell who made the more convincing argument.”
“All the more reason for me to attempt this. You say you can win money with this?”
Pisces grinned at Ceria, who had to force herself to smile back. Calvaron nodded, wincing good-naturedly as a cry went up from the crowd watching the duel.
“Students duel with magic and words in the halls of Wistram. Well, I say students, but all the [Mages] here do it. The older ones just do it with a lot more pomp and ceremony. Ooh! Looks like Seric’s going to win this one. Did you see that, Beatrice? [Air Volt]. Right to the chest! Zepheral’s not walking away from that one.”
“Looks like I win my bet. Good.”
Pisces and Ceria watched as the crowd began to disperse. Apparently Sedric had won, and some students were helping to magically carry Zepheral—the unconscious Drake—away.
“Never a quiet moment in Wistram, huh?”
“You know it. But Ceria, I hear you had an interesting encounter this morning.”
Pisces turned, eyebrows raised and Ceria scowled at the Centaur.
“Dead gods, Calvaron! Do you keep your ear pinned to the ground or something?”
“Only when it involves my friends. And quite a few people saw you practicing outside. And how you ran into all the other mages too.”
Ceria covered her face as Pisces demanded and received an explanation.
“Why were they out there? I thought I’d be alone that early in the morning.”
Beatrice blinked slowly at Ceria as she scratched an itch on the back of her head.
“Don’t you know? All the mages inclined towards combat get up early to train. They probably wondered whether you wanted to join them.”
“Oh bark mold.”
Ceria put her head in her hands and groaned as Pisces and Calvaron laughed.
“Shut up! I didn’t know, okay?”
“Don’t fret, Springwalker. Look at it this way; attracting their attention can’t hurt you, especially if they think you might be an asset to the academy.”
“It can if they saw how badly I did! I was trying to get back my aim in secret!”
“Well, you should have practiced elsewhere. The rocks around the academy are a favorite spot for all mages to practice. Less bodies to hit if their aim’s off, you see.”
“I didn’t know you were practicing. Was it for the exam?”
Pisces looked at Ceria with a frown. She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
“Ceria’s got the right idea, Pisces. She’s rated high for passing the combat portion ahead of most of the students. You should just try and get top marks in other areas. Mind you, you might have a shot at doing well in the combat portion too, given that no one’s taken classes in combat magic so far.”
“Thanks to Illphres.”
“I hate her so much.”
Ceria mumbled to herself as she stuffed her mouth full of cottage cheese. Calvaron shrugged.
“It’s not good for anyone, but hey, after the exams I’m sure the Council will find someone else to teach you lot. They can’t have you not being taught for an entire year.”
“Too late if we fail.”
> “You’re so pessimistic! But hey, speaking of Illphres, did you know that Charles de Travalier got into her classroom?”
“No.”
Pisces and Ceria both stared at Calvaron in shock. He nodded.
“Apparently, your good friend Charles was seen in the classroom. He caused a big commotion, calling for Illphres to come and teach him.”
“So she taught him, then? How’d he manage to get past the ice?”
“That’s the thing.”
Calvaron’s eyes twinkled in amusement.
“He got in, but apparently he got someone else to melt the ice for him. Anyways, it was obvious he hadn’t done it himself, so Illphres said it didn’t count. I heard she and Rievan were arguing about it and she nearly froze his face off. He’s probably the one who did it, although it must have been a struggle.”
“Rievan and Charles are working together?”
Ceria exchanged a horrified glance with Pisces. She’d noticed Rievan didn’t pick on Charles nearly as much for his failures, but she hadn’t expected the two people who hated her most to join forces. Calvaron nodded seriously.
“Oh yes, Charles is heavily in Rievan’s camp now. He’s part of the Libertarian faction for sure. They’ll love having someone with his family’s deep pockets and influence, that’s certain. And if they throw a bit of help back towards his family when they’re having their own political battles, well, everyone wins.”
“Great. Just great.”
Ceria put her head down on the table. Pisces patted her gingerly on the back while Calvaron and Beatrice discussed what they’d do with their winnings.
“I think this is a great time to break out that drink I just bought. Beatrice, can you get some more quiches? Or maybe some of those eggrolls—or just cold cuts of meat? I’m told this goes well with spicy food, but I hate spices.”
“On it.”
The Dullahan left the table as Ceria raised her head in time to see Calvaron producing two glasses and a bottle and placing them on the table. He had a very limited bag of holding that let him carry objects around.
“What’s this? Are you drinking at lunch?”
“Just a bit, just a bit. I made a good bundle betting on that duel. And this is a treat. Here—Pisces will you hold this bottle? I need to get this out…”
“What’s that? Salt?”
Ceria watched disbelievingly as Calvaron took out a small pouch of salt and began to add it to the rims of the glasses. He lined one and then poured some of the pale lime-colored liquid into the glass.
“There we are. Mm. This smells good. This, my dear Ceria, is called a Sand Tumbler—it’s an alcohol made with limes and lemons, I think. Don’t ask me why it’s called that. It’s a tasty drink—an alcohol I just bought from a ship captain who had a cargo full of drinks.”
“But salt?”
“It’s part of how you drink it. Again, don’t ask me why. But it—ooh, it does taste good! Here, Beatrice, you have to have one of these!”
Calvaron sipped from his glass with appreciation and delight. Beatrice, returned with a platter of food, reached for her own glass to prepare it like he had. Calvaron drank his, but objected when he saw Beatrice sprinkling the salt.
“Aw, Beatrice! Don’t put salt in the glass! A Sand Tumbler is supposed to have it on the rim. It adds to the taste!”
“I like salt. What about on the ice?”
“No, no! It’ll melt the ice and—look, let me do it, alright?”
Huffily, he showed Beatrice how to prepare the glass properly. When she was sipping it with apparent appreciation he turned back to Ceria and Pisces.
“I like to treat myself to the latest delicacy when I can afford it. Did you know this comes from Chandrar? It’s very refreshing—do either of you want to try one?”
Pisces declined. Ceria was sorely tempted, but she knew she had better spend all her time studying, not drinking.
“We’ve got to cram as much as we can right now, Calvaron. I’d love to stay, but unless you want to show us how to decipher complex enchantments—”
He groaned and Beatrice rolled her eyes.
“Dead gods, I’d rather let Illphres use me as a target than study that again. You two go study. Good luck!”
The two students left Calvaron and Beatrice to share their drink with a few students who’d drifted over, lured by the call of alcohol and snacks. Pisces was excited about the duel and Ceria was quiet, conflicted by her doubts.
“I do believe I might actually participate in a duel. Not a physical one—I’d rather not get hurt—but a verbal duel sounds promising! I might make some spending coin off of it. What do you think, do I have a chance?”
“If your opponent gets half as confused as I do, you’ll win for certain.”
Ceria smiled weakly at Pisces as they walked into his room. It had become their place to study, mainly because it was so convenient and because Pisces’ room was bigger. And it had a balcony. He eagerly began spreading his notes over his bed and table as Ceria took a chair.
“What shall we focus on today? I thought we might work on our spell composition. I know that Rievan’s focused on it a lot already, but I think there’s room to improve.”
“Um, Pisces.”
He looked up as Ceria spoke quietly. Her heart was pounding, but she had to know.
“What is it?”
“Earlier this morning, I saw you talking with Timor. What was that about?”
She watched his face anxiously. Pisces wasn’t a good liar, Ceria knew. Or she thought she knew. He paused, and scratched at his hair as if trying to remember.
“Him? Oh that—nothing of consequence. I was just on my way to breakfast and he stopped me—”
“Pisces, please. I have to know.”
He paused, and then turned to look Ceria in the eye. Pisces sighed, and took a seat on his bed.
“Timor did, in fact approach me this morning to extend an invitation to me. To join him and Charles in their…faction. The Libertarians. They offered me quite a few incentives.”
Ceria felt a hand squeezing at her heart. It wasn’t what she’d feared, but it still made her worried.
“And? What did you say?”
“I refused him outright, of course!”
Pisces looked indignant and hurt that Ceria had to ask. He stood up, smoothing his robes.
“I told him no, but he kept pestering me. He wanted me to abandon my friendship with you so I could add my abilities to Charles and support him. I’ve apparently got good odds to pass the exam and the Libertarians want every new student they can get.”
“Why’d you say no? They can offer you a lot more than you’d get by being independent.”
“Hardly. You know what Calvaron said about factions.”
“Yeah, but…”
Ceria trailed off miserably. She didn’t want to suspect her friend, but she did. Pisces looked at her, and his tone softened.
“Ceria, I turned him down. I would never join with him. You are my…friend.”
He said the word cautiously. Ceria blinked up at him and Pisces colored. He turned and spoke rapidly.
“Besides, Timor’s offer was quite disingenuous, I felt. I am completely disinclined to subsume myself into a close-minded group that bows to the most influential member without discourse or free thought. Your company—and that of the other myriad members of each species—is far more pleasant for me.”
That was what he said, but his real meaning was far easier to understand. Ceria surprised herself by standing up and giving Pisces a quick hug.
“You’re a good friend Pisces, but you talk too much.”
He grinned at her, embarrassed, but pleased.
“So I’ve been told. Were you really that worried?”
“Not really—well, okay, a bit. Charles has it out for me.”
“I know he doesn’t like you, but do you really think he would try to get to you through me?”
Pisces frowned, but Ceria nodded with conviction.
“I didn’t know about this! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Pisces looked outraged. He eyed Ceria and then turned red.
“You thought I was the one doing it?”
“I was wrong, okay? Look, Pisces. I know you’re a good friend. I do. But you’re Human and there’s a history between my people and yours.”
“So I’ve been given to understand, but this much? Charles didn’t like you on sight, but why? Is there really that much animosity?”
Ceria nodded tiredly. She wasn’t surprised Pisces didn’t know; if he’d grown up away from half-Elves or in a different nation he wouldn’t have the same perspective.
“I’m a half-Elf. He’s a Human noble. At one time my people ruled over most of Terandria and enslaved Humans. It’s a longstanding grudge and it’s not as if Humans and half-Elves have gotten along splendidly since then. I’ll just bet Charles is from one of the Human families my people used to enslave.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
“Or it could just be he hates half-Elves. Some Humans just hate other species. Stitch-people are widely accepted although some people get freaked out by them, but half-Elves are much more disliked. Lots of Humans hate us just for being, well, half Elf.”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah, but you’re a bit strange.”
“Thank you.”
Pisces grinned. Ceria smiled at him and felt better. He cleared his throat, looking at his scattered notes.
“Not to change the topic, but regardless of whether Charles is planning something, if we don’t study we’ll fail the exams anyways. Should we get to work?”
“Absolutely. Come on, let’s practice. Show me how you get your lightning to go straight, will you?”
—-
That night, Ceria slept more soundly than she had for a few days. But she was woken up just past midnight by a loud scream just outside her door. She sat up, heart pounding as she heard panicked voices outside.