The grand hall stretched for what felt like miles, every window bricked up and sealed. No light shown, besides two gleaming red points, like a twin pair of stars in the shadows.
Lyalla grimaced, bracing her crossbows over her other arm, wooden stakes held tightly in her other hand. Her breath was growing faster, the red lights moving closer and closer. Lyalla began to mutter a prayer to Sunvaar, but felt the words die in her mouth as the creature emerged from the shadows.
Tall, austere, like some ancient statue come to life. Her face betrayed no emotion, black streaks like veins spreading out around her gleaming red eyes, her hair dark but shaved almost entirely gone. Armored from shoulder to toe in elegant, royal steel, a cloak resting on her back. No weapons, just two clawed gauntlets.
Lyalla almost gasped, but steadied her grip, trying to stop the shaking as a sense of dread crawled up her spine, knowing immediately how a trapped animal felt when the hunter arrived. All the training seemed to be rushing out from her mind as she tried to steady her weapon, only managing a weak, sputtering half-word before the vampire opened her mouth.
“Drop your weapon, mortal. Now.”
Lyalla gritted her teeth, cursing to herself as she felt her hand go limp, the weapon clattering to the stones as a bolt fired erratically, sparking off stone. The stakes clattered, but she managed to hold onto one of them, even as she felt her legs growing weak.
“I am….I am a hunter, I will not be ensnared by your…foul magic,” Lyalla said, not believing herself even as she spoke. “Drop your mesmer, now.”
The vampire raised an eyebrow, tilting her head for a moment, before slowly shaking her head.
“No. You are…not a very good hunter, are you?”
Before Lylla could answer, her body lurched through space, wind rushing in her ears as she could feel clawed fingers yanking her across the floor. Before she could steady herself, a clawed gauntlet slammed into her throat, pinning her to the wall as the vampire stared at her, eyes mere inches from the hunter’s face.
“Luckily for you, there’s a vacancy in the court,” the vampire purred, her voice low as she leaned closer. “I can’t help but think you’ll agree, yes?”
Lylla shivered, face flushing red, bef-
“ZELITH VACHON!”
Zelith dropped the book in her hands, the spine slamming into the table as some of the other students laughed.
The classroom was a smaller one, only around fifteen students, covering the topic of materials in spellcasting. It was a required class, which was why Zelith was there, but it was a boring one, which was why she hadn’t been paying attention. And now, she found herself staring down a very irrate Caspar Russo, the assistant professor who was in charge of this course.
As she hurriedly picked up the book, trying to adjust her hair as she felt embarrassment creep over her, she winced as Caspar lifted his hand, the book immediately being lifted in the air and shooting into his outstretched palm.
Caspar was not much older than most of the students at the school, as he was technically a student still himself. Darker skin and his curly mass of black hair made it fairly clear to most he was a local, practically raised on the arcane. While his uniform was identical to all the others in the building, the three golden studs in his eyebrow and the emerald earring were obvious signs of wealth.
Zelith could not help but be annoyed at the man, especially as he raised his eyebrow at the book.
“Ms. Vachon, I understand that you have decided this class is beneath your notice, but I would ask you not use my time to catch up on your…personal reading. Crimson Hearts may be a bestseller, but it is not on the syllabus.”
The book shot back over, landing on Zelith’s desk as she muttered curses under her breath at Caspar, some of the other students muttering as she quickly put the romance novel she’d picked up back in her bag.
Well, romance was maybe a charitable term.
As the chatter died down, Caspar went back into the lecture. She could almost feel her eyes glazing over.
Hadn’t he already said this? It all sounded so similar, over and over. Like half of the things in this school.
When the lecture ended and Caspar gestured for everybody to leave, Zelith tried to bolt through the doors but was frozen in place as Caspar raised a hand, gesturing at her. Groaning internally, she walked up to the desk as the rest of the class milled out.
“Sorry for making an example of you. I do not like being ignored,” Caspar said. “And I can tell you are not…focusing well in my course. I should have addressed it earlier, but things have been busy with the staff this month.”
Zelith didn’t say anything as Caspar chuckled a bit, reaching into his desk and pulling out a small leatherbound book.
“A copy of my notes on wandmaking, and the contact information of the people I trust to make mine. All in Stinjul,” he said, before handing it over. “I imagine you learn better by doing, seeing it in action. Do it. Your assignment is to have your own wand made by the end of the month. Bring it in and show proficiency in use, make a crude one for testing purposes with provided materials, and you pass the class.”
Zelith looked at the book and the box, slowly nodding as she put them into her bag as well.
“…I will,” she said, looking at Caspar. “Apologies. I do try to focus, it can be tricky, a lot.”
Caspar shrugged, pulling his wand from the sheath at his side, starting to twirling the gnarled oak branches between his fingers.
“Why do you think I recommend you make a wand? A tip from a professional who’s gone through what you are: doing something with your hands can help with the focus,” Caspar said. “They’ve got this imported drink too, from the southern continents. Expensive, but worth the investment. Coffee, they call it. Most people just get jittery, but I have a feeling it’ll help you focus. Helped me.”
Zelith just felt more confused at that, crossing her arms.
“And you waited until after calling me out in class to mention this because…?”
“Because you’re a prideful woman who wouldn’t want her fellows to know she got help from anybody,” Caspar said simply, pulling out his own books. “Better they think you’re in trouble.”
Zelith grimaced, but couldn’t help but think Caspar had her figured out.
“I’ll be…going,” she said. “I’ll have that wand by the end of the month, I promise.”
Caspar nodded, waiting until Zelith was at the door before calling out-
“Also, I prefer S. Crevan’s previous work. The Wolf and the Sword. Might want to look it over once you’re done with Crimson Hearts.”
Zelith paused, but just shook her head, walking out of the room as quickly as she could.
Grey sat at the edge of the dock, pacing on the side of the rowboat as she waited for Zelith to arrive. Waiting for classes to end was always a challenge, and the length of time it took Lily to get to her varied from day to day.
Grunting, she plopped down on the bench at the side of the boat, looking over at the students and others milling around the entrance hall. A bunch of rich fucks, for the most part, with a few like Lily who’d managed to get in by being actually good.
Grey’s eyes narrowed as her gaze kept drifting over some of the students, something catching her attention. Some kind of glowing, silver and pearl necklace, wrapped around the wrists or around the necks. Some kind of mage shit, probably.
So why did she feel so worried? And why were some of them glancing over at her?
Before she could dwell on it, there was a blue flash, a brief cold chill that was the usual sign of Zelith’s arrival. Grey smiled, turning her head, before freezing in place.
Zelith was…wrong. Frozen in the air, her expression stuck in a bewildered half-smile. The spell wasn’t resolving, and as she floated there, body half-assembled. She suddenly appeared in another pose, more concerned and her entire body turned towards Grey, like the movement had been skipped over.
Another jump. She was yelling now.
Grey reached out, quickly, grabbing Lily’s arm. As she connected, Zelith lurched onto the boat, the yell cut off as found her footing. Zelith shook her head, laughing a bit nervously.
“…Been a awhile since I messed that one up,” she said weakly. “Could have sworn I got the coordinates right, it’s not difficult when I’m using you as a reference. Need to look into that.”
Grey’s frown deepened.
“Do not do that until you have found out why, okay? Promise.”
Zelith smiled, leaning close and pecking Grey’s cheek.
“Of course,” she said.
“I’m serious,” Grey said. “Saw your skull. Not pleasant.”
As the boat began to drift towards the gates, the two starting to jokingly argue about whether or not Zelith could make the claim her skull was “cute”, there was a strange pause in the dock. All the students with the glowing necklaces and accessories stared at the spot Zelith had appeared, before each lifting up the glowing stone and kissing it, muttering a single phrase in unison.
“The angel watches.”
Strike The Horizon 