Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Tower of Tomfoolery

CHAPTER FIVE

Tower of Mages Tomfoolery

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A question popped into my brain that I just had to ask my guide about. “Ms. Lockwood—”

“People I don’t hate can call me Liara,” she cut in.

So, she didn’t hate me after all. It didn’t mean we were friends now but it was certainly an improvement from our first meeting, and I guessed it meant I’d raised my affinity with her, however slightly, which was a comforting thought. “Okay… Um, Liara”—I wasn’t sure why, but it was thrilling to say her name out loud—“how do I join the rankings exactly?”

“I wondered when you would ask.” It almost seemed to me like Liara was trying not to smile. “There’s a proving exam at the start of each month where the twenty lowest-ranked novices are challenged by the up-and-comers.”

“Up and comers,” I repeated. “So, not just anyone can join this test?”

“Only non-rankers who’ve shown improvement over the past month are allowed to sign up for it.” I caught Liara briefly glancing my way. As if she were assessing my worth with her gaze. “Surviving the Crucible isn’t enough. You’ll need to rack up some achievements over the next two weeks if you want to be considered for next month’s exam.”

“What sort of achievements?”

“You need to figure that one out on your own because it’s different for everyone.”

As I followed Liara through an alleyway squished between several wooden buildings, I cast furtive glances at the novices we passed and noticed how the Academy had a more diverse population than I first realized. It wasn’t just elves and half-orcs and dragonkin. There were a variety of dwarves too; the stout, broad-shouldered mountain dwarves, the taller-built hill dwarves, and even some of the dark-skinned cave dwarves that were known to hate the surface. These dwarven races who were usually rivals in their respective realms were working together smelting iron in stone furnaces or banging their hammers against anvils inside the smithy to our right.

Meanwhile, the tanning hall to our left was inhabited by novice leatherworkers and tailors whose beast-like faces ranged from common wolfish and cat-like appearances to the rarer owl and rabbit features of, “Wildlings.”

“Is this your first time encountering a wildling?” Liara asked.

“Nope, but it’s the first time I’ve seen so many of them in one place… and—”

“—not at war with each other?” she guessed knowingly. “Animosity between species isn’t encouraged here. The rules compel people not to show off their bigotry in public. Privately though…”

Privately, people couldn’t help being racist, was what I figured she wanted to say but didn’t. I agreed with her too. That feeling of superiority some species had—and yeah, I do mean ljósálfar—doesn’t just go away because we’ve all been forced into living together. I was even surprised that Einarr—Anal, lol—and Kaveera were so chummy with each other when most elven races reviled the orcs and their unfortunate halfbreed offspring. Particularly because most half-orcs had an orc father or mother who’d raped an elf or human to make babies.

The sound of people singing reached my ears. It was a melody of voices so heartwarming that the bile that seeped into my chest at the thought of orc atrocities and closeted bigotry was quickly replaced by happy thoughts; enchanted weapons and armor, Realmsflix shows, skyships, and giant robots—the stuff that warms a real man’s heart.

“Where’s that coming from…?”

My gaze drifted to the dance studio we just passed by. Through its window, I glimpsed a group of five pretty girls—all of them in a variety of skin tones ranging from a clear, watery substance to skin as craggy as a molten rock’s—practicing a choreographed dance set while singing a pop song that was on eternal repeat in my ‘Spotifeels’ playlist.

“By the All-father… it’s the Elementals!” I gasped.

One of the biggest pop groups in the realmsverse—and my personal favorite—was actually associated with the Academy. Seriously?!

I stopped and stared—my foot tapping along to the beat of their song—when Liara suddenly grabbed my arm and dragged me away.

“I just saved your life,” she insisted. “No one’s allowed to watch those girls rehearse… their manager’s a literal ogre when it comes to that rule since they get so little practice time between classes.”

“Th-the Elementals are novices here?” I asked, surprise flitting across my face. I’d heard that they were youngish but I didn’t know they were around my age.

“You’ll probably meet some of them depending on the electives you choose,” Liara stated.

“Electives…” I repeated. “Wait, we get to choose which classes to take?”

“Choosing your electives is how the Academy trains us to be aware of our personal growth and goals,” Liara replied like the good guide she’d suddenly become. “But you also have to take the common courses just like everyone else at your skill level.”

“And these common courses... are we talking Algebra and Chemistry or—”

“Swords and Sorcery, Realmsverse History, Beginner Alchemy, Professions, and P.E.,” she enumerated.

That last one didn’t seem to fit the others in its naming sense, but I knew how important physical education was to us adventurers-in-training. Honestly, it might even be the most important subject of all.

“And these electives... I assume they’re more specialized training courses?”

“Electives determine which job specializations you could be accepted into after you become a journeyman.”

Liara spared an inquisitive glance my way, and I could almost swear that a smidge of respect was showing on her face, and I didn’t mind that she looked at me this way.

“You showed off some high magical talent against Doomsday so you’ll want to choose electives that will help hone your magic.”

“What sort of electives?”

“Courses on Evocation, Enchantment, Geomancy, Necromancy, maybe even Rune Theory… Anything geared toward enhancing your spellcraft, I imagine,” she guessed. “We’re here.”

Before us was another bridge of thick gnarled roots whose entrance was flanked at either side by two large stone ravens that reached past two meters in height. These statues glared down at me as if warning me not to cause trouble where they could see.

“You people don’t believe in hand railings, huh?” I asked wryly.

“True drengr aren’t afraid of heights or falling into the chilly waters of the sea of destiny,” Liara answered.

“The sea of destiny...” I repeated, my brow furrowing. I’d never heard that term before. “What are you—”

As I stepped onto the bridge, I couldn’t help glancing down and seeing this sea for myself.

Our bridge was located by the western edge of the Academy. And, as its campus was on one of Yggdrasil’s lowest hanging branches, I got a good view of what was down below us. The roots of the world tree were farther apart than I first glimpsed back when I’d met Doomsday on Root Seven. There was just enough of a gap between them that I could see a tranquil body of water at its bottommost depth right where the oldest roots of Yggdrasil would be.

“It’s the Lake of the Norns...” I breathed.

I’d never been there myself, but I knew from my lessons with Divah that the very bottom of Yggdrasil was home to both the Well of Mimir and the Norn Keep, these ancient places that contained the accumulated wisdom and knowledge of the cosmos that the All-Father had once sacrificed his eye to attain.

Once again, the simple truth was drilled into my brain. It was the fact that I was now in a place of unimaginable wonder. One that would surely help me in achieving my goals.

Maybe I should go down there soon and visit the Norns to ask them why they intervened with my death and cursed me with Extra Life…

“You’re drooling,” my guide teased.

I turned to face her with a rejoinder in mind, but the words got stuck in my throat. Because, as she stood there on the bridge basking in starlight’s pale glow, Liara’s otherworldly beauty shone, and I was begrudgingly charmed by her.

Don’t forget that she’s half ljósálfar, pal… and the fairer they are, the sharper the knives they hide.

“Do you have anything to warm yourself with?” she asked as she put on a blue cloak that protected her from the strong breeze. “Nights in Lower Yggdrasil can get chilly.”

Her consideration seemed so sincere that I couldn’t help but answer honestly. “I don’t get cold...”

You are reading story Adventure Academy at novel35.com

It was chilly on the bridge, but ‘cold’ was relative to someone who’d repeatedly felt the icy touch of death. Truthfully, I could probably stand in the middle of a blizzard and not feel it at all. Although I would still die from frostbite, pneumonia, or any number of complications caused by extreme weather.

Liara didn’t seem impressed by my statement though. The eye-rolling gave that away. “No one likes a show-off.”

Beyond the bridge was an impressive-looking tower that had been shaped out of a pillar of stone rising from a portion of the tree branch that was separated from the larger section we were on, making the bridge the only way to the tower. While it kept some of its natural jagged shapes, the tall tower was also ivory-white from top to bottom. Its surface was covered in leaf-like geometric patterns indicative of elven design. Two lifelike ash trees chiseled at intervals appeared over each of the tower’s floors, their branches bowed like arches over the windows.

The closer and closer we got to the tower, the more I could feel the spine-tingling sensation of magic at work. I mentioned this to Liara, and she explained I would eventually get used to sensing the invisible arcane wards protecting this side of the campus.

“This is what your new badge is for.” She revealed. “A novice wouldn’t be able to enter the tower without one.”

At the other end of the bridge was a series of wide steps that led up to the tower’s massive wooden doors that swung open automatically to allow us passage. Warm light filtered out to greet us. It was accompanied by the smell of roasting boar and chili mead, aromas that made me smack my lips in anticipation.

“Liara!” someone yelled from within, causing a cheerful grin to appear on my guide’s face. It was a very captivating smile that almost made me forget about her heritage.

I followed Liara past the threshold and into an entry hall that was quite unexpected. Because it was like stepping out of a magical realm and into a place of instant familiarity.

There was a fire pit in the very middle of a wide circular space that housed a two-meter-high roaring bonfire which brought both warmth and light to the great hall. Around this pit were several tables paired together with mismatched seats—from divans and couches to Lazy Boys and ottomans—with each seat filled by people of all shapes and sizes, many of them sporting the same blue cloak as Liara’s.

At the other end of the hall and nestled between the two stone stairs that spiraled up past the hall’s high ceiling was a bar. The kind one might find at a coffee shop on Earth. Behind it was a female whose skin was a lighter shade of green than her hair. It was obvious from the way she was cursing at people, “Stop spilling mead on my counter, you bacrauts!” that she was either one of the tower’s leaders or its lone bartender. Either of which sounded like a terrible job to have around such a rowdy crowd.

“That’s Holly. She’s a dryad. Also one of the top druid specialists in the Academy,” Liara explained after she noticed where I was looking.

My stomach grumbled.

“Can she cook too?” I asked hopefully.

“No, we’ve got sprites for that,” Liara answered.

I heard the familiar sound of lyrical verse that drew my eyes to the right of the great hall where a wooden stage had been set up. On this stage were two elves; one whose skin was a much darker shade of blue than his cloak, and another whose skin was as pale as Liara’s. Both of them had the same platinum blonde hair, although they styled it differently from the other.

“They’re the brothers Grimm… The tower’s two best flyters,” Liara said.

Two brothers, one who was obviously part ljósálfar while the other was part dökkálfar. This caused my brow to furrow. “A bright elf with a dark elf brother... how does that happen?”

“Same human mother two different elven fathers,” Liara shrugged. “It happens. Lots of humans are groupies for the other species...”

I could hear a tinge of sadness in her voice that I might have asked about if the brothers Grimm’s rhymes hadn’t stolen my attention just then.

“So you think you’re a flyter but I’m better than you,” the bright one rhymed.

“Test your wit against mine and we’ll see how you do,” the dark one replied with his counter rhyme.

‘Flyting’ was a contest of insults conducted in verse. It was a popular game in the realmsverse, one that often led to brawls and maiming afterward.

“Your mum’s a hoar as ugly as a witch!” the bright one rhymed.

“She’s your mum too, you dumbass bitch!” the dark one rhymed back.

Predictably, disrespecting someone’s mother resulted in one of the brothers launching himself at the other. A fight ensued, and it only made their audience cheer louder.

“Now this I could get used to,” I grinned. “I’m not a bad flyter myself.”

“Why don’t you join them on stage then,” Liara challenged.

I would have enjoyed just such a challenge as it had been a while since I’d gone flyting with anyone other than Divah—it was the one thing she sucked at by the way—but I imagined that I’d shown off enough today. Besides, the tall, gray-furred, bear-like creature who’d suddenly lumbered into my field of view seemed to have other ideas of how I should spend my evening.

A mane of braided pale gray hair framed a savage-looking countenance that had two sharp fangs jutting out of his lower lip. He had a furry face and eyes the color of fresh blood. His frame was big like a bodybuilder’s but not so big that he could measure up to Doomsday.

This being, which I guessed must be a yeti from the Shambhala realm, sent an icy glare my way, one which I returned readily. And, as if sensing our shared animosity, an uneasy quiet fell over the gathering in the hall.

“Is this the human who defeated the Master-of-Arms with rune magic?” he asked in a gruff but inquisitive tone that didn’t quite match the glare on his face.

“He finished the battle with an invocation spell too—a firebolt,” Liara supplied.

The yeti’s left eye widened slightly. “You’re an arcane adept then?”

“Among other amazing things,” I boasted.

Surprisingly, my bravado caused a grin to appear on the yeti’s face, one that carried none of the hostility I thought I sensed from him earlier.

“I wish I’d seen that for myself.” He snorted. “It’s been a while since anyone made Doomsday bleed.”

“You won’t be seeing much of anything without your glasses on, Zen,” Liara replied wryly.

The yeti named Zen reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the round-rimmed spectacles he kept there. As he put them on, I realized what I’d assumed was a glare had been him squinting at me because of his poor eyesight. Liara knew the truth though, and so did everyone else in the gathering, which is probably why they all laughed at my expense. Not that I minded. It was my fault for getting agitated too quickly.

“Don’t let these veslingr color your impression of us, human... Unlike the arrogant villains of the Warriors’ Lodge or the dodgy knaves of the Rogues Gallery, we tower folk are mostly sociable intellectuals,” Zen offered me his hand. “I’m Zen Goremonger.”

“Will.” I shook his much bigger hand. “Will Wisdom.”

Soon after our meeting—which Liara noted had also started badly—Zen coerced me into a drinking game which he claimed was a rite of passage for newbies to the tower. Honestly, I was tired and hungry, but I couldn’t say no after Liara goaded me with, “True drengr never say no to a drinking game.”

The yeti and I stood over a barrel of chili mead with a horn-shaped flagon in our hands. Funnily enough, while Zen had the bigger mouth, I proved to have the stronger gut. I downed my last swig of chili mead before he could finish his third horn.

The audience cheered, but it was only Liara’s voice I heard as she drew in close and whispered into my ear, “Well done... It’s not every day a human defeats a yeti at this game.”

My cheeks flared as red as apples, and it wasn’t just because of the warmth of the chili mead either. It wasn’t alcoholic. Somehow, I didn’t mind the she-elf looking at me the way she did now. She certainly wasn’t like those ljósálfar cultists I’d met. I realized that now. Or maybe it was just the chili mead talking.

To my surprise, Liara took Zen’s place opposite me while new barrels were placed in front of us.

“Let’s see how you do against the champ,” she challenged.

“The... champ?” Admittedly, I was already buzzed at this point. Chili mead might not be alcoholic but the stuff had its own kind of toxicity that had similar effects to alcohol when too much of it was imbibed. “Bring—it—on!”

It wasn’t much of a competition as I sloshed my way through three horns of chili mead before my knees finally buckled. Meanwhile, Liara was well into her fourth and final drink, which meant she would keep her title as ‘Champ’ for another night.

“The newbie’s about to hurl!” someone yelled.

No, I didn’t puke my guts out. My pride wouldn’t allow it. It was my one decisive thought before blacking out, Don’t you dare puke, punk... Then I fell to the floor and oblivion finally took me.