“Very good. It would make sense for an academy of magic to boast a higher percentage of [Wizards]. As for [Witches], well, we have had a number of them in our halls from time to time, but they generally keep to their covens. Their magic is more specialized—a blend of alchemy and spellcraft. I do not mean to impugn their abilities, but they are considered weaker in purely magical terms to a [Mage] of the same level. Now, I believe this hat will suffice, and a small demonstration would not go amiss. I shall consider the appropriate spell. The first ships should have already arrived in the harbor—why don’t you inspect the new arrivals as they enter the hall? Teura shall escort you.”
Teura beckoned and Blackmage stood. He followed her away from the table, out of the dining hall, and into one of the many corridors of Wistram. Dark stone and bright windows replaced the lit dining hall and Blackmage had to hurry to pass before a giant figure carved of stone. The Golem waited as students passed in front of it, its hands gripping one of the laden carts. The Golem’s face was crude and it looked weathered from years, centuries of service. But it moved with a steady, unwavering pace as it followed Blackmage and Teura into the academy.
Teura beckoned and Blackmage stood. He followed her away from the table, out of the dining hall, and into one of the many corridors of Wistram. Dark stone and bright windows replaced the lit dining hall and Blackmage had to hurry to pass before a giant figure carved of stone. The Golem waited as students passed in front of it, its hands gripping one of the laden carts. The Golem’s face was crude and it looked weathered from years, centuries of service. But it moved with a steady, unwavering pace as it followed Blackmage and Teura into the academy.
His trailing footsteps meant that Teura was moving faster than he was. Blackmage hoped she might turn a corridor and lose him, but she seemed to notice and stopped. She turned her head and he instantly quickened his pace.
Teura was a half-Elf. She had bright red hair, sable eyes, and the kind of effortless grace that made Blackmage flush and stumble every time he focused on her. So he stared past her instead. The half-Elf clicked her tongue softly as he caught up.
She nodded and strode off. Blackmage stared at her back. Identify them? And how was he supposed to do that? Humans looked the same in both worlds! Okay, the ones here sometimes had identifying elements like actual swords at their waists, but it wasn’t as if he could make sure of anything! He stomped after Teura, noting how the students and some of the mages got out of her way.
She was one of the better mages of Wistram, as Blackmage understood it. He didn’t know her level—that was a secret, and the mages of Wistram guarded their secrets as fiercely as a Dragon guarded their treasure. But Teura, like Feor, stood at the higher end of badass. She was senior to many [Mages], having lived in Wistram for over six decades. Too, she was part of Archmage Feor’s personal faction. As was Blackmage himself.
There were factions in Wistram. Almost any powerful mage would be in one of the major factions that controlled Wistram’s Council, or allied to one of the big players. Feor was part of a faction in Wistram, the Centrists, but he also had his personal group of half-Elf mages whom he trusted implicitly. Teura was one of his best [Mages] so she watched Blackmage like a hawk.
That would be the downside of it all. Blackmage stared at another Golem he passed in the hallway. This one was sand. Living sand. Its body shifted constantly as it walked, bearing a load of mana crystals which all shone different colors. Blackmage would have loved to follow it and stare, perhaps ask about how it had been made, what it could do. But he had to follow Teura. Because he was a prisoner. Of sorts.
He had not left Wistram. For his protection. Teura was there every time Blackmage turned his head, or another one of the half-Elves that Feor trusted. Again, for his protection. The mages of Wistram let him take classes, learn magic, and they’d given him his own personal rooms, spellbooks, and a wand! But they were determined not to let go of him.
Sometimes Blackmage stayed up at night thinking about that. But mainly he tried to live in the positive side of things. Magic was incredible. He was learning spells—he’d already reached Level 18 in [Mage], which was incredibly fast! He would have been content to stay in Wistram his entire life, especially if he could find more people from Earth. Just without Teura glaring at him, thanks.
