(Resumed) Solstice

[Emmett]

The town stood at attention.

Four, robed, older men strode in, and surveilled the surroundings, a couple of their stomachs growling.

"So this is Charade Gin." One of the men, of relatively darker complexion, in front and to my right, stepped forth. "It seems in ruins."

"That's because it is," Jacqueline said manner-of-factly, "It has taken us this long, with so little, to rebuild even this far. Aegis was extremely thorough."

"So it would seem, Miss Jade," front-right-guy said, "I could guess from the pittance of civilization that you were the leader-"

"Hey!"

"However, by what talent did you get this village removed from the map of New Bezoun?"

"Wasn't us." Jacqueline shook her head.

"New Bezoun Census did it," Barbara said, "I just happened to be walking by here one day and found it. Turns out when you don't have infrastructure or a classroom's worth of population nobody cares about ya."

"I see. Surprised to see you here, Miss Anneford." the same man, presumably the ringleader by how much he was talking, said.

"Surprised to be here, but the people here are great." Barbara pulled a small cut of cooked meat onto a plate decorated with a smattering of vegetable, and held it out toward the visitor. "Want any?"

"Thank you, but we already ate on the way." He gave a slight bow. "I assume given the number, presumably the totality of this place, gathered at this moment you know why we are here, and for that matter who we are."

"Dignitaries of the Can Vahs Arcane Colleges," Jacqueline said, "I would know. I was once a student."

"A poor student, but you are otherwise correct-", the ringleader added.

"Ser Vsup, that is quite enough," the other forward dignitary added. "We are here for recruitment and matriculation, not petty squabbles. This is honestly beneath you."

Wait... Jacqueline... Jacqueline Jade, my mentor, and Patrick's teacher, and Charade Gin's foremost defender, was a poor student?!

"Very well," Mr... Vsup, apparently. Vsup? Fsup? F's up? Mr. F's Up sounded fun. "I suppose," he pointed over toward the smug-smirked jerk chomping into an apple with his hand, "That you are Patrick Peterson?"

"I am indeed," Patrick answers with a flourish, "I accept your matriculation."

"Quite a forward young man," the... man? in the back to my left, with the light blue robe to contrast the green robe to his? left, the tan robe in front of him, and the deep blue robe of Ser Vsup. "I am Ser Linn. One of the higher-standing professors in the Colleges. Let me ask you, Mr. Peterson: are you aware you will be living outside your home province of New Bezoun for at least four years?" It was strange, he was definitely a man, but the voice was just soft enough to make my mind pause, only for an instant.

"Very, and I wanna go!" Patrick said, almost defiantly.

"You understand that since the second coming of the Eldest Crusade, now known as the Emissaries of Total Salvation, the curriculum has changed, and combat training for all elemental magi is required?"

"Sounds like a blast."

"And that in dire straits you may be called upon to fight?"

"Fuckers burned my village."

"Language," Jacqueline chided Patrick gently.

"Yeah yeah," Patrick replied. "Point is I'm in."

"That seems to be the extent of the disclaimer," Ser Linn said. "I understand you are a fire magus?"

"Yes I am, and proud of it!" Patrick cheered, "Want a demonstration?"

"Definitely have the mentality," Ser Linn mused.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Peterson," Ser Vsup said, "We will have time during your entrance examinations to assess the extent of your abilities. If you can attune your Æther to an element as you say, you are assuredly guaranteed a spot."

"I'm not a liar like someone here, Emmy," Patrick sneered.

I sighed. He'll be gone soon, he'll be gone soon.

"Interesting," Ser Linn said, "However, we offer our educational services on contingency. Therefore, we will need to speak to your parent or guardian for a brief moment."

"Dalton Peterson," a somewhat grizzly older man, bearded, tanned, and clad in some patchwork cloth with a bottle of mead spoke, with a bit of a growl to his timbre, "What do you need?"

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, and glad to hear you survived the purge," Ser Linn said, "My name is Ser Silver Linn, I'm one of the professors of the Can Vahs Arcane Colleges. We are contacting you to inform you that should your scion attend our programme, he is expected to perform tasks and services for the Colleges, as well as pass all of his classes. Should he fail, he will certainly be called upon to pay a handsome debt of gold and platinum. Will you be willing to act as a guarantor in case this happens? This will allow him to avoid the debtor's prison if the worst happens."

"As if I'm going to fail!" Patrick boasted.

"I know, son," said Dalton, "I'll do it."

"Excellent. Ser Vise will see to your paperwork." At Ser Linn's words, the tan-robed man who shut Ser Vsup earlier produced a scroll and fountain pen and walked toward Dalton.

"Why don't you say your goodbyes Mr. Peterson, and join us," Ser Vsup said, to which Patrick nodded and walked right up to the group.

"Already done and done," Patrick said, "Shall we be off?"

"Almost," said Ser Vsup, "As it happens there is another candidate from Charade Gin we would like to matriculate as well."

All chatter stopped right then. Another?! There was no way.

I looked around, eyes wide. Who could it be? Could it be Barbara? Or maybe one of the schoolhouse carpenters was secretly a magus as well?

"Another?" Jacqueline asked. "We don't have any other student magi here." 

Ow. I knew I was never much of a magus, but I'd be a statue if that didn't hurt.

"That's unfortunate," said Ser Lynn, "We were told Charade Gin is also the home of a Mr. Emmett Sinclair."

Nothing could stop the din of confused uproars at that moment. Patrick stamped on the ground, and growled, supposedly gritting his teeth but I couldn't see.

Patrick snarled. "No."

"YEAH! YOU GO EM!" Barbara cheered.

Jacqueline dropped her plate. "How in the name of-"

"What the fucking shit did you do this time, Emmy!" Patrick twisted his body around to face me, a reddish energy around his hand, and punched out.

In that moment, I was going to die. A spiraling lancet of heat and flame leapt from his outstretched hand. I couldn't move. There was no time to react. There was no time to dodge. Even if I could, my body was frozen in fear. My heart crunched, squeezed, and threatened to burst under the pressure.

At that moment, a wall of concentrated fire leapt out in front of me, and my feet were lifted off the ground. Something had pushed me to the left.

I couldn't breathe for a little bit, the sounds of everyone in an uproar blurring out for a moment. How sound blurred? No clue, but it did.

I finally got some breaths in me, and I slowly climbed up to my feet.

"Ah, good to see you're still with us, Mr. Sinclair," said Ser Linn, looking me over.

"While you were taking some time to recover, we heard some concerning news," Ser Vsup said, "Something about you lying about the nature of the Chairman of the Emissaries' magick?"

"Ah," I said, looking downcast for a moment.

"Tell them, you fuckstick!" Patrick roared. "Tell them how you killed Bryce by your selfish popularity stunt!"

I looked up, and noticed the fourth man, who had not spoken so far, holding his staff up, a circle of energy projected around it, a spell circle, with a ring of runes, followed by another circle, then an internal ring of more runes surrounding a central collage of triangles, and a diamond. The circle was a whiteish blue, that sometimes pulsed into lime-green, and sometimes to silver.

"If you don't-"

"Mr. Peterson that is quite enough," Ser Vsup said, "We will excuse your most recent outburst as you are not yet in our traveling party, but another one and we may have to rescind your invitation. Let Mr. Sinclair answer for himself."

I stared into the circle, how the colors fluctuated. I let my breaths sync to the pulse of the runed spell-circle before me.

"Mr. Sinclair," Ser Vsup said, "We need an answer."

"An attempt was just made on his life, Ser Vsup," said Ser Linn, "Let him some- oh? Æthervision?"

I ignored whatever it was the brighter-blue-robed man with the interesting voice said, and saw many azure streams flowing into the pommel of the staff, transitioning to a light green with some bright white sparkles up the shaft, and finally radiating into the spell circle, rushing into seemingly-random places on the spell circle. The shapes in the center glowed with varying levels of intensity that seemed to link up to the lighting of the runes.

"Young man," the caster said, "Are you perchance trying to reverse-engineer my spell?"

"Ah- N-Nothing of the sort!" I said, the streams of color vanishing when my concentration broke. "I was somewhat mesmerized by it was all. How the energy gathers to you from all directions and your staff changes its color. And I got lost in how the runes and polygons danced against each other. From the colors I sense you're using an element, and I want to guess it's Air? But then what were the white sparkles about?"

"Stop wasting everyone's time and tell them how you don't even know a single hellsdamned-"

"Mr. Peterson, keep in mind my spell is still active," the maybe-Air-caster said. "You guess correctly, Mr. Sinclair, and as you surmise, the white sparkles are indeed significant. I am using an advanced form of Air Magick called Communication, and I trust when you learn of Aspects, you will see the significance of the white sparks. I am in communion with the Arcane Colleges now, and they can hear what you say."

"I..." I took in a deep breath. If I told the truth, I'd be seen as an unrepentant liar and probably killed for real. If I went along with the lie, I'd surely be rejected and despised, and I'd probably be the first suspect of any cheating, plus no one would ever want to be with me.

I took a breath. There was always the third option. Lie about the lie. I had to say that I lied... Or maybe....

"I saw... everyone dying... A-Aegis, he was..."

"A monster, yes," Ser Vsup said, "We know. Please make your statement brief. Did you or did you not lie about the nature of his Magick?

"I..." I took a deep breath. "I just saw people dying... and Patrick-"

"Don't you fucking dare blame-"

"He was my friend at the time, and he was about to sacrifice himself..." That shut Patrick up, and also wasn't lying.

"I didn't want to lose my friend, so I got desperate. And amidst the sick smells of rotting corpses..."

"You fucking weasel," Patrick sneered.

"I wasn't even sure what I was seeing, but I couldn't let him die, so I made up something based on my seeing everyone's spells fall apar-"

"That wasn't what happened and you know it!" Patrick screamed. "You just wanted to be seen as a fucking hero so you could be some chosen one or some shit! Even if his magic were able to be seen, you think some no-name dumbass empty like you would be the one to do it?!"

"I will not have you insulting those magi who are not attuned to any element," Ser Linn spoke harshly. "I am myself an 'empty', and yet I am a dignitary dispatched to a foreign province as a representative."

"You have a certain strength of character, Emmett Sinclair," the Air Magus said, "It is hard to admit ones faults, especially when lives were on the line. However, you will be given additional scrutiny should you accept."

"Accept?" I asked.

"Accept our invitation to study at the Arcane Colleges."

"Oh? I-"

"No." Jacqueline stepped forth. "I need him here to help with the village, and besides, if he went with you, he'll just land himself in debtor's prison, cause I'm his guardian, and no way in hell am I guaranteeing shit."

"Do you accept that risk, Mr. Sinclair?" Ser Linn asked. "I assume you are the age of majority, so your guardian cannot keep you here without your consent."

"If you make this decision to get in over your head I'm not taking you back!" Jacqueline warned, "I tried to train you, you're shite at magick, just accept it."

"I..." I took a hard breath. "I... wish to attend."

"You can't even cast a single spell!" At Jacqueline's protest I held out my right hand, and took a soft breath. I pulled on the air around me, and my hand glowed a soft blue.

"Five years and all you can produce is that?" Jacqueline blinked. "Are you fucking with me? You realize how basic that shit is?!"

"You know what?" Patrick's grin turned wicked. "Sure. Accept, you backwards-thinking buffoon. I want to see you rot in prison for getting in over your head. Not like you don't deserve it either for what happened to Bryce."

I shook, and grit my teeth, losing my spell to Patrick's insult.

"Do it," Barbara said. "You'll prove 'em wrong."

I smiled. Someone had my back, at least. I took a slow breath. "I wish to attend."

"Then don't ever fucking come back," Jacqueline said.

"You understand that since the debut of the Emissaries of Total Salvation, if you perchance attune to an element, you will be required to take combat training?" Ser Linn said.

Patrick shook his head. "Like he's ever going to be anything other than an empty husk."

Ignoring Patrick, I nodded.

"And you understand that in times of dire straits you will be called upon to support a combat effort if you are not yet attuned, or to fight directly if you are?" asked Ser Linn further.

I nodded again.

"And finally, you understand that we offer our education on contingency? You will be expected to perform tasks and services for the Colleges, as well as retain satisfactory marks. Failure will yield you a wondrous debt of much gold and platinum, and you will likely find yourself rotting in debtors' prison for the remainder of your natural days."

"I accept the risk."

"Excellent." The Air Magus chimed in once more. "We of the Can Vahs Arcane College, Ser Vsup, Ser Vice, Ser Linn, and Ser Feylance, hereby begin the matriculation of candidate magi Mister Patrick Peterson and Mister Emmett Sinclair of Charade Gin. Our business in this province has concluded, and we will be delivering our new pupils to our campus in Can Vahs. Communion conclude." With that, his spell circle dissipated into the air.

I turned around to regard Jacqueline for what was probably the final time.

"Get out," Jacqueline said, "And don't you dare come back. How dare you abandon Charade Gin, how dare you throw your life away."

"Thank you for taking care of me," I said.

"And how dare you give a fake-ass 'thank-you' like that."

"Goodbye." I turned my back to her and walked toward the dignitaries, ready to begin my new life.