This story is part of the Wanderer series.
Here it was. The Royal Magic Academy. For all of my childhood, I dreamed of coming here. To study and learn magic. To use magic. To become a licensed magician of the kingdom, even if in exchange we would have to defend it against all threats to the queen. That was an exchange I was willing to take for magic.
The hall was crowded with dozens of students. Each table was buzzing with excitement as we dined to celebrate everything we worked for to get to this point. The academy director and his instructors were lined up at the apse of the hall, dining on their own, separate from the students. They watched over us, either as guardians or as vultures. I would learn quickly not to judge the instructors based on how they looked at us, however. My teacher was the third from the right.
I took my tray to the nearest empty seat. There were already four other students at the table, with one seat remaining. Neither of them could have been older than fifteen years old. “Care if I join?”
The boy with short blonde hair was the first to respond. “Please, be my guest!” He had a broad chin and a great smile. His energy was radiant, even from across the table from where I sat.
Not one to sit silently to myself, I struck up a conversation with the other students. “Hey, I’m Blythe.”
“Pleasure to meet you! The name’s Aiken.”
The girl right to him was the second to speak. “I’m Orva! Nice to meet you!” She too had blond hair, long and thin compared to Aiken’s scruffy hair.
The second boy was a bit shy, and addressed my invitation without a glance. “Erm, I’m Beowulf.”
The boy to my left, with a dark, dark shade of brown hair, was even less receptive. “Osric.”
I sat down, and noticed the cluttered tray that was Aiken’s. I laughed. “You’ve got quite an appetite there!”
He laughed along heartedly. “Yes I do! I’m tempted to swing back for a second bite, actually! You think they’ll notice?”
“Hey, save a morsel for the other students!” Orva scolded, though I could tell by her smile she was being playful.
“Yes, yes, I suppose I should!”
We settled in to eat, though it was not long before Aiken addressed me again.
“Where are you from?”
“Me?”
“Are you frost the south west part of the country? The white hair is familiar.”
“Yeah, why do you have white hair?!” Orva chimed. “You’re not an old lady, are you?!”
“Certainly not, ma’am!” I bellowed with a bit of a giggle.
“Oh! Don’t mess with her, Orv!” Aiken cooed. “They say the lighter the hair, the wiser the lady!”
“That’s true! That’s true!” Orva admitted.
“I hope so!” I added. “That would make me wise from the start, then!”
We settled our laughs for another bite.
“Right, where are you from, then?”
“I’m from the town of Beormia.”
Aiken lit up. “Oh! I’ve heard of that name before! I believe that town is well known for its wind magic!”
“Is it? There are only one or two magicians I know of in town.”
“Really? That’s it?”
“At least, there are well known magicians born there,” Beowulf joined in. “Like Artair the Swift.”
“Oh! I didn’t know that,” I admitted.
Aiken flung a hand up. “What?! It’s your own town!”
“I’ve always been more interested in fire magic!” I excused myself. “Fire and lightning!”
“Oh, that’s great! Why those two in particular?”
“They just have a certain warmth and brilliance to them, you know? And especially with lightning, it just has such an irrevocable power; one that shakes you to your core.”
“True, true. I too am a fire magician, so I get where you are coming from.”
“You are?! Wait, how?!”
“Huh?!” Orva joined. Even Beowulf looked up from his tray.
“Well, wait, going to become,” he corrected himself. “I’m not licensed yet!”
“Oh, I was going to say!” Orva let out a breath. “Are you really just a teacher hidden within the ranks?!”
“No, no! Not in the slightest!”
“You do look like a teacher,” Beowulf added.
“What? How?”
“At least, you look older than the rest of us.” Beowulf’s eyes quickly scanned the table, fast as lightning. Blinked, and anyone would have missed it.
Orva laughed. “Certainly true! How old are you, Aiken?”
“Well, certainly, I am a late student, but only by a year or two from you all! I am only fourteen!”
“Really?!” Orva yelped. “You’re my age then!”
“What?!” Aiken hollered back. “You strike me as twelve!”
“Well, I’m flattered!” she gushed.
“It’s hard to tell with girls,” Beowulf added. “With them, always guess over. And with men, guess under.”
“Well, excuse me!” Orva scoffed. Beowulf was quick to look away.
Aiken laughed along. “No, thank you, I would rather guess under! I’ve learnt it’s never a good idea to claim a woman older than they are!”
“I second that!” Orva praised. “And, if I may add, you have quite a baby face yourself, Beowulf. So I don’t believe what you said is true!”
Embarrassed, Beowulf sank his face deeper into his cloak. “Well, that just runs with the family, I suppose.”
“Say, how old are you?” Aiken asked.
“Thirteen.”
“What about you, Blythe?”
I beamed. “Take a wild guess!”
“Uh… five!”
I laughed. “No, actually!”
“With that hair, she’s got to be in her twenties at least!” Orva joked.
“Hey! Heed your own advice!” I pouted.
“What advice?! I was not the one who said it! I only seconded it!”
“But really, how old are you?” Aiken repeated, then turned to Beowulf. “What’s your guess, Beo?”
“Huh?”
“We all need to take a guess. Or she won’t tell us!”
“Uh…” He stared at me for the first time, his eyes unflinching. Perhaps he was not a shy boy after all. “I’m no good at this.”
“Just throw in a number!” Aiken encouraged.
“Thirteen.”
“Thirteen?”
“The average age for students entering the Academy.”
“Oh, right. Good guess, good guess.”
I crossed my arms, puffing my chest. “Well, you’re all wrong! I’m eleven!”
“Eleven?!” Orva and Aiken echoed simultaneously.
“Yes!”
“How?!” Orva exclaimed.
“Because I’m smart!”
“No kidding! You’re like a child prodigy!” Aiken praised.
Orva wasn’t convinced. “But, isn’t there a minimum age to enter the Academy?!”
“As far as I’m aware, no.” Then I shrugged “I mean, I’m here.”
“I cannot think of a reason to have one,” Aiken added. “The kingdom wants to pick up talent when they are young.”
“I suppose so.” Orva sat back in her chair crossing her arms and sighing, still in disbelief. “Still, eleven?!”
I took some bites of my porridge. It was getting cold, but my face was still radiating warm with pride. I bathed in their disbelief.
Aiken was first to speak once again. “What about you, Osric?”
I looked at the dark haired boy sitting next to me. I’d forgotten he was there.
“What?” His voice was deeper than I expected.
“How old are you?”
“That’s none of your business,” he returned.
“Oh, come now! We’re all classmates here!”
They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Osric returned to his food. Aiken’s smile only grew and grew.
“Leave him be,” Orva dismissed. “He doesn’t seem like the kind to talk.”
“Oh, I can get him to talk eventually,” Aiken beamed back at her. “Just needs some elbow grease is all. You’ve got to warm them up to it!”
Osric looked up with scowling eyes. Though he seemed rather aggravated, they were not hateful eyes. In a few years, they would soften, and I would realise what Aiken saw that day. Even then, when I believed no one was smarter than me and I was the top of my class, he had his own wisdom I was missing; a wisdom for people.
That was his true power. His affinity for people. He had a talent not only to unlock the deepest vaults in your heart, but to bathe you warm even during your coldest nights. He was someone you wanted to be around. He was someone you could count on. Someone you could look up to as your leader. And we did. We looked up to him. He was our leader. He was my mentor.
My world returned to the battle. I wrap my arms tightly around his limp body, pressing his forehead deep into mine. Orva, Beowulf, Osric, all of them, by my side, focus on the threat in front of us, poise to meet his next attack.
Gritting my teeth, hard enough to shake off the tears, I finally cry out.
“Why?! Virgil?!”
My teammates abruptly turn their heads back to me.
I let out one more protracted scream. “Whyyy?!”
Our former teacher only stares down from his high ground, apathetic to my anguish.
“Why? Why not? I thought I taught you children better than that.”
My hands shake, still gripping him tightly.
“Do what you want. Make that your only guiding principle in this wretched world. If you want to love, love. If you want to kill, kill. The laws of this kingdom confined me. So I broke them, and now the kingdom has made me their enemy. What else am I to do without sacrificing freedom?”
I silently stare at him in disbelief. I hear Orva, who stood guard just off to the right in front of me, heavily breathing. Her legs are shaking. She is clearly overcome with emotion as well.
“They have sent many to stop me, and the only resolution I have found is to kill my assaulters. It’s unfortunate that they sent my very own students to stop me. Nevertheless, that is just how life is, and I moved past that point.”
Osric is the first to respond. “Teacher, you have taken this to the extreme.”
Virgil’s gaze does not phase. “That is your opinion, Os. I’m disappointed you would say that. Just think for a moment. If you were in my position, what would you do?”
“I wouldn’t be where you are in the first place, teacher,” he chides.
“Very well. If that’s the way it will be, I will mourn for those of you who don’t make it out alive after this fight.”