“Good to see you’re making use of the college’s many teachings,” he said proudly, I swear he was always either scalding hot or freezing cold, “are you acclimatising to the more… structured environment here?”
I barely stopped myself from asking ‘As opposed to what?’ and instead gave a polite nod and smiled, “Quite. It’s a wonderful college, and there are so many great lessons to be learned.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, because today we will be going out for your second lesson.”
“And what might that be?”
“Some like to say destruction magic, I prefer the term actively defensive.” he said with a sly smile.
I laughed at his joke for his benefit, “Sounds good Master Vilor, when shall we start?”
“Noon, we’ll be practicing in the courtyard.”
“Pardon?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, “Won’t that be difficult with the trees?”
Vilor chuckled condescendingly and shook his head, “No, no, no my simple druid student, the one beyond the library.”
Tarthirious was teaching me so much about inner peace at that point I’d started to believe that was the point, “Thank you for the clarification, I will be there as soon as possible.”
Mission Started: Second Class.
Objective added: Meet Your Class in the Girit Mage’s College Courtyard at Noon.
Vilor disappeared to do whatever stupid crap that he did, and I checked the time to see it was already past eleven. Knowing how annoying people like Vilor could be with time, I ran for the library and passed Joliv’s desk, to which he grumbled something and went on reading.
The door was much prettier than the others throughout the library, and on my first pass through I’d simply glossed over it and assumed it was Joliv’s room.
I pushed hard against the heavy door and was immediately hit with the incredibly bright light of the sun. Once the temporary blindness wore off I got to see what it was that had made it so bright, the walls of what I assumed was some kind of coliseum, minus the seats for an audience, were made of what appeared to be obsidian.
The ground was mostly dirt and sand, but there were patches of carved down trees and scorched earth. I had a feeling that the place wasn’t only used for simple training, but full on sparring matches that could’ve gone on for days.
As I walked around I started to realise that it wasn’t unlike the Arena, only the Arena’s walls weren’t made of one of the hardest materials in all of Tarthirious, and the Arena was a bit less battle damaged.
It wasn’t long before the other students started to trickle in through the library’s doors and I got to begin eyeing off my competition.
They formed an orderly line which I joined, and when I turned I discovered that Vilor was standing there waiting, “Good of you to finally show up,” he snapped, giving me a nasty look, “you’ll have to show more discipline than that if you want to truly master the craft of magic, no matter how well you can purify water.”
Progress made in mission: Second Class.
Objective complete: Meet Your Class in the Girit Mage’s College Courtyard at Noon.
Objective added: Complete Vilor’s Lesson.
I was starting to get sick of the unoriginal objective titles, but that was something I knew I’d get used to.
“Apologies Master Vilor, it won’t happen again.”
“Excellent. Now, you will each split off into pairs and fight with whatever actively defensive spells you have.”
He waited longer than necessary for the class to laugh nervously at his kind of silly joke before pressing on, “You will fight until you’ve won or lost, losers will be free to sit on the edge of the courtyard, or be sent to Madame Rit for healing if the winner has done their job right. I have a selection of spells available to those who don’t have one yet, but you may only have one, the rest you will have to purchase from another mage or learn in your travels, so choose wisely.”
As with the enchantment stone there was a fire, ice, earth, and lightning option.
Learned Spark.
I went with the lightning for the sake of uniformity and found a partner over near the exit, a skinny young man who was about as shaky as a leaf on a tree in a hurricane.
“My name’s Armelia, yours?” I asked with a respectful bow.
My opponent returned the gesture and stuttered nervously “Ph-ph-phioneus.”
“Alright Phioneus, are you ready?”
He nodded and got into what could arguably be called a fighting stance, if you really stretched the definition I mean.
I let him take the first move, like the nice person I am, and narrowly dodged the fireball he sent at me, and even gave him some time to prepare as I got ready to launch my attack. I dropped to my knees, touching my middle and forefingers on either hand together, before pulling them apart and creating an arc of thriving electricity, and then finally casting the bolt at him from the tips of my right hand’s fingers, all of which was done in the space of a second.
Phioneus was fried, a black scorch mark directly over his heart the only sign he’d been attacked at all. I looked around worriedly for a moment before stepping toward him as he collapsed to his knees and then to his face.
I gained no XP from the encounter, and right before I reached Phioneus a mage in white robes lifted him into the air with some kind of simple levitation spell and walked him back toward the library.
I was going to be pissed if that as it, zapping some poor student and being told to leave, but no, instead I got to watch the spectacle that was the other mages fighting. Rock, ice, and fire all flew around, crashing off the obsidian walls with cacophonous sounds to follow, like thunder in an echo chamber.
After a while there was one in particular that stood out, another young man, long blonde hair, and moved like a dancer, shooting ice into his opponent like a pro.
Said young man eventually defeated the one he was pummelling, and we were the only two left completely unscathed.
Vilor looked between the two of us and let a wicked smile play across his lips, “Well then, let’s make this interesting, shall we? Derrian Gol against the druid, winner gets a tidy purse of 750 gold pieces.”
I liked my odds, thinking it’d be a piece of piss I gave a nod to Vilor and a bow to Derrian, “If he feels up to it, I don’t see why not.”
As soon as the words left my lips Derrian shot me a wink and raised a twenty foot tower of ice under his feet, “I think that question lands on you, druid. Do you really think you can handle me?”
I smiled at the chance for a real fight and got another lightning bolt ready to fire, “Bring it on tough guy.”
Armelia: Chapter 8
Ice grazed past me and I started my mad slalom for his tower, launching bolt after bolt into the base and sending chunks of ice in every direction. Derrian wasn’t letting up though, and I was barely dodging the dozens of icicles he flung at me.
Eventually the tower made the sound of an avalanche and I took a few steps backwards as it fell, smiling as I thought I’d won, but Derrian was better than that.
Not seconds before I was sure of his demise did I see him sliding down the side of the collapsing pillar right toward me. I was so distracted by the sight of it that it didn’t even register that he was still on the attack, and by the time I saw him jumping into a flying kick position it was too late, his boot slamming right into my chest and driving me to the ground in nothing flat.
Derrian Gol used kick.
Critical Hit!
Chest injured.
80 damage inflicted.
-5 crushing damage per minute.
HP: 3420/3500.
I heard Vilor chuckle from the sidelines then watched as Derrian was thrown from me and I was lifted back into a standing position, a green glow surrounding me until I was back on my feet.
Vilor healed you.
Full health restored.
All debuffs removed.
HP: 3500/3500.
“As entertaini
ng as that was Derrian,” Vilor said snidely as I stared down my opponent who was standing atop the icy rubble, “it would do you well to remember that this is a magical duel, you wouldn’t want the druid to pull out a weapon, would you? Continue!”
I wasted no time in sending a bolt at his feet and effectively blinding him with powdered ice and steam, giving me the opportunity I needed to get behind him.
The steam cleared and Derrian looked around desperately, a thick icicle in hand.
“Oi! Bozo!” I shouted, a fully charged bolt between my fingertips.
He spun to face me, but a second too late and caught the lightning right in his face, sending him reeling back in pain and causing him to fall to his knees.
Critical Hit!
I briefly thought about letting him recover, you know, the fair thing to do, but decided against it when I remembered how he’d kicked me in the tits. I was up on the rubble in a second, bounding toward my still stunned foe with another dose of vitamin zap ready to burn through him, but right as I leapt into the air and prepared to sear his spine I was caught by a dozen invisible hands.
“That’s enough!” Vilor barked angrily, “Discharge your spell at once.”
The thought to send it at Vilor himself crossed my mind, but I figured that was the adrenaline talking and slowly sucked the energy back into my body through my fingertips, “Something the matter Master Vilor?” I asked as I was lowered to the ground and the medical mage appeared to take away Derrian.
“Something the matter?” he growled as he stomped toward me, “You nearly killed Derrian!”
“Preposterous,” I said dismissively as I climbed down to the dirt, “only hurt him a little.”
Vilor’s stare bored into my soul, but I refused to back down, “You’d make a fine mage if you’d only respect authority.”
“I respect authority, just not yours.”
I immediately knew I’d come to regret that one line of spitefulness later, but in the moment it felt like the right thing to say.
“This lesson is finished,” Vilor said to the class without breaking eye contact, “I’ll come find you when it’s time for your third and final one.”
I refused to move, I’d stand there all damn day if he didn’t leave, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit stubborn.
In the end my resolve proved to be stronger than his and he turned to leave, “Master Vilor, aren’t you forgetting something.”
He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn, instead pulling something from his robes and tossing it over his shoulder with a scoff, “I expect that you will learn to show some respect come your final lesson, you won’t survive it otherwise.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked goadingly.
Vilor said nothing, just stood there for a few seconds before scoffing again and walking away.
I waited until he was back in the library before going over to the sack of coin he’d thrown onto the wet dirt and picked it up with a smile, “Now that was fun.”
Acquired 750 gold.
14,785 gold.
Mission Completed: Second Class.
+500 XP.
Progress: 1070/3500.
Armelia: Chapter 9
When I finally decided to step into the library, after taking a few screenshots of the mess I’d made, I discovered that the college was absolutely filled to the brim with potential quests.
It seemed that every third person had the faint yellow outline around them that indicated a personal quest. Another of the many perks of hitting level ten was being able to see quest givers instead of blindly fondling everyone for the hope of finding someone worth the effort of finding their fork-shaped spoon.
Up until that point I hadn’t really seen any around town, least of all any worth talking to. In the college though? It seemed that after that second lesson with Vilor a whole new world of opportunities had been opened up to me.
I forced myself to ignore most of them, my inner completionist screaming for me to sate its unending desire, and instead found myself looking for the type that I’d hoped would be some kind of healer tutor.
It took a fair few tries, finding a hippy in a mage’s college is like trying to find a specific grain of sand at the beach, but I found a man by the name of Flari Tomn tending to the garden’s in front of the college. Head shaved clean, brown robes covered in flowers, empty potion’s bottles, and a single glass jar holding some kind of mystical blue butterfly, he was everything I was looking for and more.
I may have laughed a little bit at his half-closed eyes and dopey smile, not out of disrespect or anything, simply because he reminded me of a professor I’d had in university.
“How may I help you today my little star child?” Flari asked like the shroom eating, grass smoking fellow I suspected.
“I would like to learn the art of healing.”
His smile broadened and he stretched his arms out wide, “The first step in learning how to heal our physical bodies is to heal our souls. Embrace me child.”
I was a little uncomfortable with the fact that his third sentence was a demand for a hug, but at the same time I really wanted to cross something off my list.
So, with as little hesitation as I could manage when being close to a pothead earthworm, I hugged him, to which he wrapped his arms around me and filled me with this bizarrely wonderful warmth. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the light that was emanating from the two of us as our magic combined and changed.
It was actually almost painful to break apart, but I forced myself to let go and smile at Flari.
“Your energy is strong young druid. Have you had any training in the healing arts before?” Flari asked as he caught nothing out of the air and forced it into the jar, making the butterfly glow brighter than before and change colour to a deep green.
I shook my head, “Not that I know of,” I said, trying to hide the fact that I was staring at the butterfly, “though I have had some damage to my mind.”
“Ah, yes, I can see that from your mana. Have you considered repairing it with magic?”
“Yes, I am actually refining my abilities here so that I may find the Ministry of Druidic Affairs.”
Flair smiled and parted his robes, showing that he had similar tattoos to me, “Another child of the Path I see.” he said before replacing his robes and straightening them out, “Well, who would I be to deny training to one on such a righteous journey as that of the path. We will begin when you are ready.”
I mimicked his smile, actually feeling quite happy that I wasn’t the only druid there, “I am ready now Master, if you’ve the time.”
Flari dismissed the title with a wave, “‘Master’, heh, no one’s called me that in a long time, and I don’t expect people to do so now. Flari is fine. And I’ve always the time to teach.”
Mission Started: Hippy Class.
Objective added: Complete Flari Tomn’s Lesson.
I was too happy to care about the simplistic objective that was yet again popping up, instead I eagerly awaited Flari’s teachings.
He gestured to a wilted plant in front of him, some kind of purple sunflower from the look of it, “Return life to this plant.”
I smiled and nodded, “Certainly, and what was the spell for that?”
I was met with a confused look and shifty eyes, “What… do you mean? Water it, care for it.”
My face fell, “Pardon?”
“I can fetch a pail if you’d like?” he said calmly with a smile, “In order to understand the art of magical healing you must first be willing to heal without its involvement, else you will sap too much of the world’s energy for yourself and remain ageless. There is a natural order, embrace it.”
That’s when my eye started to twitch, “You can’t be serious.” I said coldly.
Flari looked at me disappointedly for a time, and I was sure he was going to say I was unteachable in the ways of the druid, but then he finally broke down and started laughing, “I’m sorry, I thought that’d be funny. Of course I�
�m not going to force you to do things the normal way. We’re druids! We’re the ones who use magic to heal the world while others choose to destroy it. Here,” he said, waving his hands over me as Gilda had, “a simple spell that may be used to heal others.”
Learned Touch of Life.
A sigh of relief escaped me as I got a feel for the spell, “Wouldn’t it be better to have a spell that I can cast from a distance?” I asked as I ran my hand over the flower and brought it back to life.
Cast Touch of Life.
“That is quite true, but I believe you should start small and work toward that.” he said without even the slightest amount of condescension that I’d come to expect from some of the masters, “Those kinds of spells take a significant amount of focus and knowledge of the magical arts. For now we will focus on the healing of one thing at a time with the power of touch. See if you can cast it on yourself.”
I gestured to my body, “Do I really look I need healing?” I laughed.
Flari tucked his hands into his sleeves and laughed, “No, you look to be the pinnacle of health and beauty.”
“Aw, thank yo…” I trailed off as Flari, with the speed of a viper, pulled out a dagger and drove it into my abdomen.
Flari Tomn used stab.
Stomach wounded.
45 damage inflicted.
-300 bleeding damage every thirty seconds.
-1000 poison damage every thirty seconds.
HP: 3455/3500.
“Wha…” I groaned as I desperately tried to stem the bleeding with my hands against the wound.
“Yes, quite the blade, isn’t it?” Flari said, looking over the kris in his hands, “Poisoned with the blood of the highly venomous silver drake. Now, quickly, the spell.”
It was much easier said than done, my hands were shaking, and it seemed every time I went to do it a jarring pain would rip through my body.
-300 bleeding damage.
-1000 poison damage.
HP: 2155/3500.
I was dead, I was sure of it, but then I had an idea.
Legends of Tarthirious : Books One-Four of Kylia's Story (Legends of Tarthirious (A LitRPG)) Page 31
