County Wycliffe


    The punishment for  Q and Cedric’s  night of frivolity was an increase in their training  intensity.   Elara and Q’s  grandparents introduced restrictions into their duels, obstacle course runs, and their overall training.   Stripping them of their  preferred tactics   and removing from their arsenals, their instinctive reactions.   Forcing them to adapt and avoid falling into common patterns. They would be assigned tasks, but the simplest or most direct methods to achieve the goal were prohibited.  Stressing their  creativity and  inspiring  new ways of using their  Gifts.


    “This is your fault. You know that,  don’t you?” Q said from where he lay panting in the grass.


    “Hey, if you had shown that  girl a little of your own magic, that prick’s little flame wouldn’t have done anything for her.” Argued Cedric,   mentally preparing   for his turn on  the obstacle course. It was on its tenth or twelfth  version,   as Henry made changes  over the years.  Increasing  its difficulty as soon as he started to think the course had become too easy. Cedric’s current restriction  limited him to shifting only his hands and feet to complete the course. Changing the skeletal structure, shape, and texture of his extremities allowed him to improve his ability to grab, hold, and in certain cases, land, but overall it resulted in a significant increase in difficulty due to the decrease in both speed and dexterity when compared to the capabilities he had in what he called, his battle form.


    Peering at the clear blue sky above, Q replied.  “If that is what would have won  Vera  over, I’m   likely  better off without her.”


    What he’d hoped would turn into an unforgettable night had, in fact, become one. Just not in the way he would have liked. The consequences of their night at the tavern were farther reaching than he’d been prepared for.


    “That’s true enough, but we were never really in trouble for that night. It just gave them a  reason to push us. That, and they knew you would work harder  if you felt guilty.” Cedric said with a grin. “I  listened  in on  mother  speaking with  your  grandparents. They are doing this to prepare us for the Academy. Now that we’ve been enrolled, they want us to be ready.” Cedric  confessed  before  running  onto the course.


    Why does he always have  to have the last word?  Q wondered, before his thoughts drifted to  the Academy. His  stomach fluttered at the idea of leaving his family and being surrounded by other mages and nobles. He knew his grandparents were worried about his safety in the Capital, but Q only had one thought. The faster he completed his training and service to the realm, the sooner he could sever all ties with the Crown and its King.


    *****


    The Capital City of Gremelda


    Six Months Later


    Q watched with wide eyes as they rode through the  inner  city gates. It had been so long since he was last here that he had forgotten  how overwhelming the Capital could be.


    Gremelda unfolded in two distinct layers, divided by an imposing inner wall that soared above its surroundings. The outer city, a sprawling expanse of timber-framed houses, cobblestone streets, and modest markets that had built up around the inner wall over the centuries, creating a second city that encircled the inner ring. Smoke curled lazily from countless chimneys, mingling with the scents of freshly baked bread, horses, and the occasional waft of refuse from a nearby alley. Children darted through narrow lanes, and merchants shouted over the hum of daily life, their voices mingling with the rhythmic clatter of carts and hooves.


    While lively and full of character, the outer city bore the marks of time and necessity—weather-worn shingles and uneven streets were cobbled together and only repaired or smoothed out by the Gifted on occasion or due to necessity. Here, norm life moved at a brisk pace, grounded in the day to day of an uncaring reality.


    The inner city, protected by its towering stone wall and the magic within, was a world apart.


    Rising above the chaos of the outer city, its polished grandeur glinted in the sunlight. Within this fortified enclave, the very air was different—cleaner, for a start. Every structure was a marvel of craftsmanship, carved or transmuted into stone, crystal, and adorned with gems to a level of excess only achievable through magic. Wide avenues paved with seamless stone made up the city’s infrastructure, connecting elegant plazas and buildings shaped into works of art that spoke of wealth, authority, and permanence. Towers spiraled skyward with impossible grace in the inner districts. Their surfaces were etched with intricate designs that showcased their family lineage, while the stone edifices in the merchant’s quarter advertised their wares, services, or family business.


    Between the walls, the contrast was stark. The outer city, though alive with humanity and heart, seemed humble and coarse next to the refined and brilliant inner sanctum, as though its builders knew it would forever stand in the shadow of something greater. Yet the two halves formed a symbiotic whole—the inner city drawing goods, entertainment, and food from the outer populace, while the outer city thrived under the protection of the Gifted within the monumental walls.


    Cedric, seated beside Q  in their carriage,  was   currently  playing  the  role  of a country bumpkin,   having never been to Gremelda before.


    Side-eyeing his friend, Q asked, “Hey, how come you never came here with your parents? I always thought that was weird, with how many other cities you’ve been to.”


    Cedric frowned slightly, struggling to pull his eyes away from the window, and from what Q suspected was a rather pleasing female form. Based on the way his eyes tracked whatever he was watching. Finally, he got around to answering,  “You know,  I’ve  never actually asked.  I’m pretty sure it is due to the way my mother is treated by most mages. They look down on her for only having access to Mental magic. The fact she is the best in the kingdom means little to those that just want to tear her down.”


    Q  suspected that his friend was right. It was unfortunate the way in which people judged others, but it was a fact of life that people generally compared themselves in various ways, and a select few would go out of their way to make sure that those beneath them, knew it.   Shaking off the morose thoughts, Q did his best to  enjoy the sights  passing by through  the carriage  window.


    Their families had explained to the two young men what to expect  at the Academy,  and Q’s grandfather,  Ed, planned to meet them at the gates  upon their arrival.


    The Mage Academy was built on a small campus  within the inner city.   Each building meant for a specific purpose and use. Their briefing on the academy didn’t  delve into the details of each building, but they did cover those that they would spend the majority of their time in. The main hall, library tower, elemental chambers, dueling arena  or training yard, and the  one they were the least excited to visit,   the  Infirmary.


    Q could pick out the library,  and the open-sided tower used for the air chamber,   even  from a  distance. He may have wanted to complete his  service to the  kingdom  as soon as he could, but even  he  had to admit  to  some  level of  excitement  at the prospect of learning  new magic and  seeing  how others thought to use theirs.


    And this is the best place in the entire kingdom to do so,  he thought.


    Q climbed out of the carriage and peered up, and up, and  up  at the   academy gates towering   over him. The campus was  walled  for security, with  armored  guards manning the entrance, stationed periodically along the crystal-lit expanse.


    True to his word, his grandfather, Ed,  stood just outside the gates.   His heavy, purple  Council robes,  giving him a distinguished air. And Q noticed,  drawing nervous glances from the gate guards.


    Standing  beside  him  in grey robes  was a young man Q did not recognize.


    Stepping forward,  he and  his grandfather  exchanged  grips.  It had only been a few months since they’d last seen each other, but Q was happy to have him  there for support.


    “It’s good to see you, son.  I’m sorry to rush things along, but your registration set things into a bit of an uproar,  and I’d like to get you settled before anyone knows you’re here.”  Said Ed, when  a cough from beside him  interrupted them,   making   his grandfather wince.


    “Ah, that’s right. My apologies, Mage Hastings.” With a wave of his hand, Ed indicated the grey-robed mage. “Boys, the academy requires you to be greeted by another student to guide you through your first month here. Mage Hastings has been assigned to you  both  for simplicity''s sake.”Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The young man stepped forward. Close to their own ages, but presumably a year older, judging by the fact, he was already a student and likely in his second year.   The boy’s  thick,  curly  auburn hair was long enough to touch  his eyebrows,  and  flared  out in all directions.   His large brown eyes were warm and expressive. Reaching  out a hand in introduction, he said.  “In case you are unaware, we are told to set aside our noble titles and rank while we are in training. We are all considered students and are addressed as Mage. It is supposed to keep us from pulling rank on each other,  or stars  help them,  an Instructor.  Though… I’ll admit that it does still happen on occasion. Anyway, you two can just  call me Ronan.”


    Q grasped his forearm,  giving  it a light squeeze, and replied.  “Well met,  Ronan. I am Quinten, but you can call me Q, and this is Cedric. Thank you for being our guide.”


    With introductions complete,  Ronan escorted their small party  through the gates  with a  wave  at the guards.   He  took the group on a short tour. Walking across campus, Q saw three different colors of robes, white, grey, and black. He assumed the colors meant something and made a mental note to ask Ronan about it later.  Q  tried to focus on the  young  man as he explained where each of the elemental chambers were located, but the feeling of eyes watching him was starting to make  him uncomfortable.  It took him a moment to process what was setting him on edge, and when he finally nailed it down, he hesitated, bringing up the subject in his embarrassment.


    Eventually, his unease won out, and  Q  leaned toward their guide, mumbling, “Ronan …  Is  all  the staring normal?”


    The  young  man, who had been actively pointing out the Infirmary, stopped speaking and let his hand drop to his side. Giving the surrounding area a good look and  taking in the atmosphere, realization dawned.


    With a snort, he said,  “It’s the new students. Their robes tell you if it is their first or second year at the academy. White for first, grey for second, and black for an instructor or a graduate mage. You are likely one of the first gifted boys that any of these  Ladies in white  have  ever  seen,  other than family. And, it is not uncommon for noble families to push their daughters to find a potential husband during their time here, a practice that has only grown more popular after the King’s Edicts.”


    Q nodded  his understanding. The logic made sense, but it didn’t really explain the—predatory glint some of their gazes carried. Before he could ask as a  follow up, Cedric beat him to it. “Uh.. not to sound like a dandy, but are we safe here?”


    The question forced a laugh out of Ronan until he realized Cedric was serious.


    “Yes…” He said, raising a brow. “You’re  safe  enough  here, at least  while you’re  on academy grounds.  But… uh. Maybe don’t  go  off  with any of them into the city alone? Let’s just say more than one young man has gone missing, only to show back up a week later—newly married, and not exactly happy about it.”


    After planting that cheerful notion firmly in the minds of his two young charges, Ronan continued the tour. When they reached the end, excitement danced across   their guide’s face as he  clapped his  hands together,   rubbing  them  briskly. “The next part is my favorite. Have either of you ever used a testing stone?”


    Testing stones had been described to Q in the past, but this was his first  opportunity to  see one in person. The stone looked like a large round table with five concentric rings formed out of crystals embedded in the table’s surface. They appeared clear, but Q knew that depending on the person being tested, they would glow a specific color to match their Gifts.


    Red for Elemental, purple for Mental, blue for Physical, green for Transmutation, and gold for Healing.


    Each crystal represented a stellum—a unit used to measure a mage''s power. For reasons still unknown, the total stellum within a mage increased significantly with each additional Gift, ranging from a fifty percent increase to a full doubling. A mage with a single Gift always measured at twenty stellum during testing, while someone with two Gifts could score anywhere from thirty to forty. This exponential growth in power continued with each additional Gift. It was theorized that a mage with all five Gifts could manage to score as low as 100, or potentially reach as high as 320 stellum. Though this had remained unproven, as no one had ever possessed all five.


    The testing stone was built for the possibility, though. With the fifth ring closing its circle  at  320 crystals. There were two large white  orbs placed at the front of the table. It took Q a moment to realize that they were normal crystals,  worn smooth over time from where past mages had held them during their testing.


    Closing the door behind them, Ronan asked, “Who would like to go first?”


    Raising a hand,  Cedric  said, “I  will.  I don’t expect there to be any surprises.”


    With a wink at Q, he sniffed in his best impression of a snob and  stepped  forward. Keeping his  upper lip stiff and his gait to match. He  took hold of  the crystals and channeled his  Gift. Three of the table’s rings lit up, the first,  purple,  followed by blue and  then  green. It was easier for Q to count the crystals  that were  not  glowing in the third row.  Leaving ten dim, and  meaning  that  Cedric came in at seventy stellum.


    Sighing, Cedric  theatrically  let his head fall  forward as if in despair, saying,  “I was ready to max this thing out,  just on my good looks alone.”  Earning  a grin from their guide, and a snort from Q.


    Stepping  aside, he bowed   and swept  his arm forward,  presenting the  table  to Q. “The stone awaits to confirm your legacy, O future Archmage.”  Joked Cedric  in a sonorous voice.


    Ignoring his friend’s antics, Q wiped his  sweaty  hands on his trousers and stepped forward. Placing his palms on the two crystals, he   released   his  hold   on  the energy coursing through him.


    When Cedric  had  used the stone, it   lit the room with a pleasant glow. In comparison, Q’s Gifts  turned   the testing stone from a small flame into a bonfire. Lighting up the  entire chamber  and  nearly blinding its occupants.


    “Stars above,” Ronan rasped in a shaky voice.   “I thought you were joking…  I—I’m not even  sure  Archmage Highbridge is that powerful.”  The second-year   managed  from behind  Q.


    In an attempt to downplay the stone’s results, Q’s  grandfather cleared his throat. “As we suspected, you do not have the ability to heal, but  that is  a perfectly acceptable result, son.”


    Their testing finished, Ronan turned on unsteady legs  to  exit  the room, when   Councilman  Edmund took a strong grip on  the young mage’s shoulder.


    “You will not speak of this to anyone. Is that clear?”


    Ronan  shrunk  back  at  the intensity  coming off the older mage.  “My lord, it is standard policy to report any testings of over 80 stellum   to the  Headmistress. At 150,  he could very well be the strongest mage alive.”


    Squeezing harder,  Edmund   leaned in.   His quiet voice,  and the calmness with which he spoke,  highlighted  the threat hidden  beneath his words. “Archmage Highbridge  is  the strongest mage in the kingdom. There is a difference between power and ability,  Mage  Hastings, as you well know." Relaxing his grip, Ed continued. “It will do him no good,   being made  a spectacle.   He  will have enough difficulty  already,   being who he is. He needs  time  to learn and grow into his  Gifts. Do you understand?”


    Ronan met the man’s gaze, and could clearly see the depth of caring and concern within him as he simultaneously threatened and all but pleaded for Ronan to agree.  “Of course,  Councilman. I understand. I will not report this to the headmistress.”


    Ed released his  hold on the young man entirely.  “Thank you. I will owe you and your family for your caution. If your silence ever becomes an issue,  just  say  I told you to keep it secret by order of the Council of Mages.”


    “Yes, Councilman Wycliffe.” Ronan said absentmindedly, meeting the hazel eyes of the young man with sun-kissed bronze hair, and couldn’t help wondering how interesting the next few years at the Academy would be.