A gentle breeze twirled the leaf around, carrying it as it travelled down the twisting, dusty road. Riding the wind like a carefree bird, it whirled round and round and finally striking against the gates of Taldon city, drops to the ground. Temporarily distracted by the rustling leaves, the guard’s attention returned to the dusty path. It had been rather quiet, of late. The Taldon Armed Forces had been successful in restoring peace after the Great War and their heavy-handedness had convinced rogue groups to leave Taldon alone. With time, Taldon prospered and became the central city of Seldeon, much like its predecessor, Darkhaven, once was.
Drumming his fingers on the hilt of his sword, he closed his eyes for a moment. He had had a restless night and now felt the weariness catching up. Moreover, the recent lull has given everyone a sense of security and peace, and perhaps, carelessness. For, even as he dozed gently at his post, four human outlines appeared on the horizon, and progressively grew bigger. Snapping out of his reverie, the guard stood up to confront the four strangers, who, dressed in colourful and expensive robes, seemed to be aristocracy. A mistake which was soon rectified.
“State your name and business.”
A wave of the leader’s hand and all that remained of the guard was molten slag on charred bones. Within moments, Taldon was engulfed in chaos. The Taldon Armed Forces were battling the four strangers in what seemed like a one-sided battle. Wave after wave of the armed forces were struck down, and the four strangers seemed like the four elements personified – wielding the powers of wind, fire, water and earth. All hope seemed lost, when reinforcements started coming in. Heroes from near and far, explorers, warriors, mages – all who held Taldon dear, had arrived to battle for their city. The assemblage of power was impressive indeed and yet, one by one, they fell. The Immortals watched impassively as the proudest city of Seldeon was slowly razed to the ground.
Frost was the last one standing. His mythical armor had kept him alive so far against the barrage of elemental spells. He couldn’t even get near the Shokers to land a blow and already his armor showed signs of giving in to the terrible damage being inflicted on them. Determined to stop these terrors, he hurled spear after spear at the four brothers in front of him, four whom he had recognized. He had heard stories of the Elemental Shokers, the elite of the Shoker clan, children of and second only to the Apocalyptic Shoker and his horsemen. He had heard stories and rumours of their power, but this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. All his comrades have fallen, even some of the most powerful mages Taldon had seen in recent times.
Seeing that only a lone warrior was left, three of the Shokers stopped their attack, and allowed their leader, the mighty Pyro Shoker to enjoy the kill alone. They circled each other, Frost looking for an opening, and Pyro Shoker, amused at the other’s attempts. Throwing his last spear at Pyro Shoker, Frost whipped out his sword and leaped on him with a roar. He never connects as a powerful fireball caught him in the air and threw him back several yards. Coughing up blood, he looked down and saw that his armor had cracked and smoke was rising from the opening. His defensive force field had been ruptured and a good deal of his torso was burned. He looked up to see Pyro Shoker looking down on him with a cruel smile. Lifting his hand, Pyro Shoker aimed it at Frost’s head. Refusing to close his eyes in fear, Frost glared back at him and commanded his burned body to rise, but to no avail. Gritting his teeth, he waited for the killing blow. Fire particles start crackling around the villain’s hand and a small yet intensely hot fireball forms in the small of his palm. Finally, with a roar, Pyro Shoker lifted his hand high ready to smash the fireball down on the helpless form in front of him, only to have his hand detach itself in a gush of blood and fall down to the ground. A robed, hooded figure shimmered and solidified in front of them and pointed one sword at Pyro Shoker’s neck.
“Touch him and I will rip your heart out.”
Shocked, Pyro Shoker looked helplessly at the stranger, while the other Shokers jumped to their brother’s rescue with a barrage of spells. A sweep of the stranger’s hand and the spells and their creators were knocked back.
“Your fate is not for me to decide, and yet you have slain those who would’ve judged you. So it is left to me to deliver justice.”
With a sweep of the stranger’s hand, the four terrible mages were turned into stone statues, statues with a look of disbelief on their faces.
The robed stranger kneeled down near Frost and moved his hand over the charred torso. The flesh instantly healed and skin grew to cover the raw flesh. Relived of the pain, Frost looked up in amazement at his rescuer and asked, ‘Who ARE you… ?‘
Removing the hood, the stranger looked into Frost’s eyes and said, ‘Had time been so unkind that you have forgetten your old friend?’. Frost looked in amazement as recognition dawned on him. The stranger who stood in front of him was none other than the legendary Xion, slayer of Txachimitchual, and the one who had brought an end to the Great War that had levelled half of Seldeon. With a smile, Xion said, ‘Doubt not, for it is indeed me, Xion. I have come back to you now, though a tad late’. With the last word, Xion’s face grew sad and he looked around at the destruction around him. He was indeed late. He had saved the city, but not the people within. More than half the populace were dead and the rest wounded. He closed his eyes, the pain of being late growing too hard to bear.
After healing the wounded, Xion helped bury the dead. It was a grim day indeed, but the arrival of their saviour had offered some consolation to the people. Much of the living were engaged in mourning the dead. Xion stood alone on the city walls brooding, far from the crying and the mourning. War was coming to the land of Seldeon again. He knew that Apocalyptic Shoker wouldn’t forgive the death of his children easily. Taldon desperately needed aid from other cities. They had to be prepared for war. He had to be prepared. Dark times lay ahead.
He lay shivering on the cold floor. The floor of the cell was damp and the pit-pat of tiny feet could be heard from somewhere in the darkness. Dizzy from blood loss and the powerful stench, he attempts to sit up, only to fall back in exhaustion. Dancing in and out of consciousness, he finally drops off to a long dreamless sleep. He wakes up feeling feverish. Sunlight was pouring in through the tiny window and provided a respite from the cold. After soaking in it for a while, he sits up, feeling very weak from the gnawing hunger and the ache in every part of his body. A metallic clang behind him tells him that his lunch is here. He drags himself to the bowl placed near the prison door and gulps down the watery soup along with all the chunks floating in it. Dropping the bowl in place, he drags himself to a spot in the cell where he could get maximum sunlight and props himself up against the wall, only to have his legs buckle away under him. A quiet rage builds up in him and cursing himself, he rises on his feet by the force of sheer willpower. Taking a few shaky steps, he swears to himself not to be weak. If they thought they could break him, they are stupid. After walking up and down the cell a few times, he sits down on the floor and reflects on the events of the past week.
He should’ve known it was a trap. Now it seemed glaringly obvious to him but then he had been distracted, so there is no point in blaming himself. Now he was paying for his carelessness in full. Left to die in a rotting cell, the only reminders of civilization are the meals and the occasional beating from the prison guard. Oh, the cruel look in the guard’s eyes as his rifle butt slammed into him – someone was going to die very soon, he tells himself. He knew he wouldn’t be here for long. He would get out. It was just a matter of time. If only he could subdue the guard and escape. He had no idea where this prison was or how heavily guarded it was, but he was sure he could make his way out. He only had to regain his strength somehow. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the prison door opening behind him. It’s that coward of a guard returning to take a few cheap shots at his legendary prisoner. Closing his eyes, he waits for the blow to fall, a blow that never comes. The sound of the door closing tells him that his torturer has left. Puzzled, he turns around to find the bowl placed near the door with fruits in it. Skeptical, he approaches it and turns the bowl upside down to find a note within, as he had hoped. Eagerly, he opens the note and read it. It read ’1300′. Unable to make anything of it, he throws it out the window. He gazes out the window at the mighty ocean as it lashed against the rocks beneath the window. There is every chance that this is an island, he tells himself. Then, remembering the fruits, he approaches them cautiously and picks one. Sniffing it for a while, he ventures to take a tiny bite from one of them. He rolls around the chunk in his mouth for a while, his trained tongue searching for any traces of drugs or poisons. Reasonably satisfied that it was clean, he devours it along with the rest of the fruit. In a matter of minutes, the bowl stands empty again.
Once more, his mind returns to the strange note he found in it. He had expected some note of assurance from his contacts that he knew would help him escape, but all he got was a stupid note with a four-digit number on it. 1300. Thirteen hundred what? Suddenly it struck him. That could be the time of the day written in military time. Since no date was specified, it must imply that the rescue would be today. He peers out of the window and by the position of the sun, estimates it to be just past mid-day. So that could mean that the hour is at hand. He turns around to look at the door in anticipation of something happening. His heart leaps when he sees that the door hasn’t been locked. Calming his racing heart, he slowly sneaks up to the door and opens it a crack. As far as he could see through the crack, the corridor was empty. He slowly pushes it open and steps out ready to defend himself in case this was a trap, but the corridor remained empty.
Puzzled, he slowly creeps down the hall, bracing himself for the inevitable rush of uniforms and loaded weapons, an onslaught that never comes. Finally he reaches the entrance. Cautiously, he pushes open the gates. His jaw drops down as the sight that greets him is beyond his wildest imaginations.
“This is my December..
This is my time of the year..
This is my December..
This is all so clear..”
I alight from the bus and take a deep breath. Here I am again, alone in the big city. A slight tug in my chest reminds me that this time would be the last time. So it’s all ending tonight, I muse. I look around at the tall buildings that surround me and let that emotion wash over me, the one I cherish, the one I can never explain, the one that dissolves away my past and my future and leaves me lost and alone. Sometimes I wonder why I crave for this feeling, despite the loneliness it brings. Always, I have no answer.
“This is my December..
This is my snow covered home..
This is my December..
This is me alone..”
I close my eyes and take in the sounds of the bustling night life around me. Again the question arises in my mind – why do I like to come here alone? I love being with my friends and it’s not like I want to take time off for myself. Then what is it that gives me this inexplicable thrill, the moment I set foot in the great city? Is it the feeling of adventure, of uncertainity? Or was it the feeling of independence and the foolish notion that I was a big boy now, and can venture into the real world on my own? Maybe it was all of this, and maybe it was none of these.
“And I…
Just wish that I didn’t feel like there was something I missed..
And I…
Take back all the things I said to make you feel like that..”
Tonight, the feelings were a little different. In a few hours, I would be leaving all this behind forever. Most of my friends have already left. Maybe that compounded the loneliness. I knew for sure that my life was changing. Gone were the days of carefree frolicking. I knew my heart would linger here for a while, after the rest of my body has departed. I reflect on my days here and realize that the only regret I have was of having to leave this place.
“And I..
Just wish that I didn’t feel like there was something I missed..
And I..
Take back all the things I said to you..”
I knew I had to hurry. As much as I didn’t want to leave this place, I definitely didn’t want to get stranded here after all my friends had left. A hurried dinner, alone. I look around. I knew I would miss each and every place in this city that I have been to. So many memories. So many memories. A quick auto ride and I arrive at my final destination for the night – the bus. I leave all my luggage inside and just saunter around the bus.
“And I give it all away..
Just to have somewhere to go to..
Give it all away..
To have someone to come home to..”
Something stabs me in the chest when the bus starts pulling out of its station. I can’t believe that everything was ending and that I was actually leaving everything behind. That all the happiness I had found in this place would soon become just memories of the past. And in my panic, I was alone. No one was there to hold me and tell me that it is gonna be ok. That life goes on and we have to move on. I close my eyes and sink back into the seat. Everything that has a beginning, after all, must have an end.
As the bus gathered speed and sped into the long, dark highway, I sat quiet, lost in disturbing thoughts. I was leaving home from college for the last time. Four years of fun filled days spent in the company of loving friends has come to an end and travelling back alone almost felt symbolic. My uneasiness kept me from falling asleep despite a tiring day of tear-filled farewells. Lines from a popular farewell song kept coming up in my thoughts and I kept pushing them back. Time sped by as I sat lost to the world around me. Memories of places and faces flashed by in front of my eyes and I felt my eyes moisten up.
The bus came to a halt and my mind snapped back to the present. The driver was yelling at us to be back in half an hour. I get out of the bus and look around. It’s the same “drive-in” restaurant they always stop at. With a deep sigh, I walk in, occupy an empty table and place my order. While waiting for the food, I scan the room for familiar faces. A quiet face sitting alone at a table at the other end of the room catches my attention. I rack my brains trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. Was it someone I’ve met in college? Or some distant relative whose name has slipped my mind? Suddenly, with a start, I recognize him. The memories start flooding in – painful memories. Alagappa. A name that I have not been able to forget for so many years.
It was eleven years ago. I had just come back from summer vacation and all geared up for the academic year. That year I had shifted from the school bus to a private tempo service. One day, this strange looking guy comes up to me and starts talking to me like he knows me. Bewildered, I ask him who he is and when he reaches out to touch my arm, I panic and push him away. With a hurt look on his face, he walks away. For several days after that, I was disturbed by the memories of this incident. Who was this guy and why did he behave like that? After a while, I figure out how he knows me and the realization startles me. I had met him a month before the summer vacation. He was in the school bus with me and with a couple of days, we had become good friends. He was a year senior to me and he loved me like his brother. I too liked him and we used to go home together. Then came the two month long summer vacation and over these two months, I had forgotten a dear friend. The very thought of it made me sick and suddenly the reason for the hurt in his face became apparent. I had forgotten him but he hadn’t forgotten me. His face kept haunting me ever since, but I, somehow, lacked the courage to go out and make up with him. A few weeks later, during the morning assembly, the principal announced that Alagappa would be reciting a poem that day. Hearing the unusual name, many of the students giggle, till the principal’s stern voice quitens them. Trembling and clearly nervous, Alagappa comes to the mike and in a shaking voice recites the poem. After the poem was done, Alagappa quickly steps away from the mike. No one shows any signs of appreciation and soon Alagappa and his poem are forgotten. Soon I stop seeing him around the campus. On enquiring I find out that he had transferred to another school. And no one knew why. Was he unable to adjust to the school and the people here? Or did his parents have to move somewhere and he had to leave too? I guess I will never know.
The guilt of treating a friend the way I did, of jilting someone who had loved me, haunts me to this day. And now, Providence has given me another chance. Another chance to quiet the ghosts that haunt me. Here he was, sitting in the same room as I was. He had noticed me looking at him but obviously hadn’t recognized me. With trembling hands, I stand up and slowly approach him. I knew I wanted to apologize to him for how I treated him but I had no idea how to start. Even before I could figure out where to start, I ran out of time as I had reached his table. He looks at me with a puzzled expression on his face. I ask, ‘Alagappa?’. For a moment he is silent. Then he says, ‘No. Maybe you have mistaken me for someone you know?’. I shake my head and walk back to my seat quickly. Was I wrong? The face was exactly how I remembered. Was it a look-alike? Or was that really the Alagappa I knew? If so, why did he deny it? Had he recognized me and pretended to be someone else? Or had he changed his name for ‘Alagappa’ had evoked much ridicule, and had decided to let go of the past? My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the food. I slowly chew on my food, hardly enjoying it. I look up to see his face again, and it’s gone. He was gone. I look around but see no sign of him. I get and run outside but there was no one there. I ask the man at the counter and he remembers someone matching the description leaving a short while ago. I walk back in, only to be reminded by the impatient blowing of the bus horn, that my thirty minutes were up. Quickly washing my hands, I board the bus. As the bus pulls away from the restaurant, I look once more at place where I had seen him, hoping that somehow, magically, he would return. But the seat remained empty.
I pretend to sip my drink and eye the crowd around me. The dim lighting hampered visibility but what I could see was definitely not the best of humanity. A crude and violent kind of people. Some sort of organized fight was happening in a corner and much gambling was going on. I take a quick inventory of the people gathered around the ring. Most were drunk and senselessly gambling away thier money. Apart from the gamblers, there were a few mean looking guys who were probably looking to making some money in the ring. Most of the patrons were trying to catch a glimpse of the action from their seats but not successfully so. A short chap was sitting at a table sipping his beer, with a hat covering most of his face. At a nearby table sat a particularly large man with long blonde hair. Something about his face would send a shiver down many spines. Maybe it’s the smile, the smile of a lion who has cornered its prey. And when he smiled, I was almost certain I saw fangs. Or was it those eyes, like a predator looking for some foolish prey to fall into it’s grasp. In all probability, this might be the one I am looking for. The guy who gutted Selina. Left her to bleed to death. Had it not been for the communicator I gave her, she would’ve never survived. My heart had stopped when I heard her cry over the phone. The mad rush to get to her. I close my eyes and try to push the memories away. Have to concentrate on the task at hand. Have to push back the rage. I grit my teeth and manage to subdue my anger.
Aloof from the crowd there stood a tall and majestic throne on which sat a tall lady. Dressed in less, it was pretty evident that she owned the place and probably half the town. On either side of her, stood tall, hired muscle. Whether the loyalty was towards her or to her money, it was evident that any who was foolish enough to cross her would be dealt with swiftly and very painfully. A sudden cry of pain brings my attention back to the ring. As I turn, I see a man large as a house smash his opponent into the floor. His bruised and bloodied body, obviously bereft of life, is soon dragged away. The large man shouts out many challenges. The size of the guy itself intimidates many and there are no takers for the offer. The guy with the blonde hair smiles and stands up. I realize that he just found his prey. Curious to know how this would turn out, I get up and push my way to the front of the audience. The man giant was still in the ring shouting out challenges and swearing at some unknown foe. The blonde guy walks up to the ring and jumps in with a grace that is suprising for someone so large. The two come up face to face. Tall as the blonde guy is, he is dwarfed by the living mountain in front of him.Bets are soon made with incredibly high odds against the blonde guy. I notice the tension in the ring and sense that both were waiting for the other to make the first move. Probably tired of waiting, the giant rushes only to connect with air as the blonde guy sidesteps him with ridiculous ease. Enraged, the giant starts swinging wildly at his opponent. Each blow looks powerful enough to bring down a building and yet none of them connect. All the while, the blonde guy keeps grinning and dodging his opponent with ease. And then suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, he ceases dodging and takes a punch.The crows gasps, for the punch is powerful enough to throw the guy backwards. One would expect him to get up hopping mad and fight like hell but he just stands up with that evil grin on his face, as if he was just testing his opponent’s power. He takes a few more punches without hitting back as if silently taunting his opponent to try and hurt him. The giant starts bellowing and was very evidently losing control as the punches became more and more random and undirected. As if this was precisely what he was waiting for, the blonde guy lunges at the giant, moving almost faster than eye could see. My quick eye notices a flash of metal and moments later, the giant is on his back, bleeding. No one cries foul. Not a single sound is heard from the bar which was all too noisy just a moment ago. Even the toughened patrons stare in horror at the spectacle in front of them. The blonde guy’s hands, covered in blood, have metallic nails protruding from his fingers. He crouches there like some beast from a monster movie, with bloodshot eyes and a snarl on his lips.In mere moments, the beast within had been unleashed and had satisfied it’s bloodlust. I realize with dawning horror that here was confirmation that this was indeed the person I was looking for. For Selina’s belly was gutted much in the same way. As if some beast had attacked her. Though she was too delirious to remember details, she was sure it was a man. The man beast standing in front of me. I quietly take off my shirt and step into the ring.
There is a gasp from the audience. To them, it made no sense. Here was this beast in humaniform, having just felled a guy as large as a house, in one shot. And this normal looking guy was going in to fight him. All the patrons in the bar start to gather around the ring.
The blond guy looks at me with that evil grin of his and slowly licks his bloodied fingers. My rage doesn’t let me feel fear. I force my mind to relax and convince myself that I can do this. Both of us circle each other like two wolves gearing up for battle. I know that he will wait for me to make the first move. So I fake a lunge at him and catch him with a left hook. Caught off guard, he snarls and attacks back. I easily sidestep him for he was clearly enraged and thankfully wasn’t fighting like he could’ve. Another lunge, and my side-step attempt is interrupted by his claws tearing through the flesh in my arm. I grit my teeth and channel my mind away to ignore the pain. I keep my eyes on his hands only to be kneed in during the next encounter. More attacks are met either with powerful blocks, or even more painfully, with savage counter-attacks. Slowly, it dawns on me that the claws were not his only weapons. He obviously has had a lot of training in hand-to-hand combat, as my mastery of multiple forms of martial arts weren’t exactly helping me against this monster. I try to push back my emotions and fight this logically but Selina’s face fills my memories and this moster’s evil looks weren’t helping with the fear either. I parry some more, with neither of us landing any major hits. Suddenly, I realize that I am weakening, having lost a lot of blood from multiple wounds. He smiles as if he read my thoughts. His cockiness returns and once again, he’s the lion circling in for the kill. Rage blinds my senses, and I leap out in a savage kick that would’ve felled any other lion I’ve known. But it hardly fazed this one. I started feeling like I was losing my senses for I could no longer see any bruises on him. He seemed to be healing right before my eyes. Knowing that this could very well be my last stand, I attack him savagely with hardly any regard to stance or method. He just swaps me away like a fly. Darkness starts falling and I struggle to stay concious. A sharp pain in my abdomen tells me that he has just gutted me. As I crumble to the floor, I vaguely see his figure looming over me, preparing for the finishing blow. From somewhere in the distance, a voice calls out, ‘That will be enough, Creed’. I fight against the enclosing darkness and regain enough vision to see the short guy from the table, talk to the monster called Creed. Some incomprehensible words are exchanged and I see metal flash and soon Creed joins me in a pool of blood. This new short monster has foot long metal claws protruding from his knuckles. My sanity stretched to its limits, i pass out.
I wake up in a strange hospital with no familiar faces around. It takes me a while to come to realize that I am back in Gotham. I seemed to have been out for several days on end. I looked around, still dazed from the terrible ordeal. On seeing me awake, the nurse brings me an envelope.I tear it open. Inside is a hand-written note. “Creed has paid for what he did to your woman. Go in peace. A friend.”
Still dizzy from the teleportation, I step away from the portal just in time as it fades away from sight. I take a moment to check my belongings – travel rations, canteen, spare clothes, my lucky amulet…. Well, looks like everything made it through the portal. Now, that’s surprising. Usually you lose a thing or two. Guess I just got lucky. I smile and turn around.
The majestic gates of the Darkhaven Academy loom ahead. My heart drops down to my feet. ‘This is it’, I tell myself. I am entering the most prestigious institute of learning, in all of Seldeon. They say that Lord Fellon himself was involved in the establishment of the Academy. I watch in awe as the great gates open themselves on my approach. Slowly and silently, a new world is revealed to me.
With small shy steps, I approach the receptionist. ‘Errr.. Greetings. I am Xion and I was invited to join the Academy for mage apprenticeship’. She directs me to an inner room. I walk into the room to find a hall full of young people listening to a tall lady shrouded in flowing shadow and light. Her voice was gentle, and at the same time, commanding.
“Greetings younglings. I am Mistress Tsythia, the Headmistress of this Institute. Until you complete your basic training, you will be reporting to me. At all times, refrain from breaking the rules of the Academy and wandering beyond the limits of the Academy grounds. This is for your own safety. Each of you will be given a magical amulet which will teleport you back to Toric, the academy healer, whenever you are excessively hurt or your lives are in danger. Please understand that the amulet is made of extremely rare gems and you should take care not to lose them. On completion of your basic training, you will be required to return the amulet, for, by then, you would be capable of taking care of yourself. Each of you has been assigned space in the student quarters and after this session is over, you can proceed to the quarters to relax awhile. When the sun reaches its apex, you shall assemble in the dining hall. I shall see you all then. You can now proceed to your quarters.”
We herd into the student quarters. The quarters is a long hall with rows and rows of bunkbeds. I find mine to be in a corner. Mine is the top one, the lower being occupied by a human. On seeing me, his face immediately splits open in a wide smile. “Greetings. I am Finrod. Human. 17. You are?“. “Xion. I am a high-elf from the plains. I am 16“, I say with a smile. I put up my stuff on my bed and sit down with Finrod and we start talking. He tells me about his village, how he was living on a farm with his parents and sister, and how one day a cloaked stranger approached him and invited him to the academy. Apparently, he had the potential for learning the magical arts within him, just like me. For us elves, it comes naturally. For this quality to be present in a human, is rare indeed. Finrod has a perpetual smile on his face and his good nature is infectious. Soon others join us and in a short while, we start feeling like we’ve known each other for a while.
The dinner bell rings and we all assemble in the great dining hall. The moment I walk into the hall, my jaw drops open. I feel small and insignificant in the large hall. The other end of the hall is just barely visible in the dim lighting, as is the ceiling. There is a huge oval table in the center and many small tables in the periphery of the room. I understood immediately that the center table was for the elders and we younglings were to occupy the smaller tables. Finrod pokes me and points. I follow his eye and see Mistress Tsythia taking the head of the table. Many of the instructors are assembled around the central table. Prominent among them is Lord Domick, the chief instructor. Mistress Tsythia gets up to speak and a hush falls across the great hall.
“Today, we are gathered here, to welcome the new generation of initiates into the Academy. As you all know, it is a great honour to be invited to the Academy and I remind all gathered here, that with this honour comes great responsibility to always use our powers for the good of others. Let not my words dullen this joyous event. I wish the initiates a wonderful life ahead and everyone a happy and hearty meal.”
All through dinner, Finny and I were whispering to each other. We were both very excited as we would be training to be mages. We could hardly wait to start. The rest of the dinner went uneventfully as we stuffed ourselves with the delicious spread the Academy kitchen had put out.
The rest of the day was spent in familiarizing ourselves with the layout of the Academy facilities and the Academy grounds. Some parts of the Academy grounds were marked off by barbed wire. ‘Ye who is not ready shall not enter‘. In other words, initiates keep out. Finally all the walking tired us out and we went back to our quarters. A refreshing steam bath and we were ready for dinner. Dinner turned out to be a lot quieter than lunch. After dinner, Lord Domick informed us as to where the classes would start the next day. We drag ourselves back to our beds and in not time we are fast asleep.
I dream that I am fighting a huge terrifying dragon. My magic spells drive it back and finally I rescue the lovely princess and carry her off to live happily ever after. I smile. A new life has begun.