Fire Emblem: Last of the Manakete

So, I'll probably finish the next chapter sometime tomorrow. I might have gotten it done today, but I got distracted somehow by the strange thought of what Ryza's transformation would look like if the quest were an anime. These are what I ended up coming up with; and since my brain put in the work of creating them, I figured I might as well share.

"Without magic, we would never have won the damn war! You owe me, Theodore! You owe people like me the chance to be free! Don't you dare go back on your word!"
-Archmage Lenora Thundercrier, at the end of the Fell War


As you stare at the scroll, you feel… you feel as if you're ready. Maybe you're doing this decades before you would have normally, but you're not in a normal situation. You're a thousand years in your relative future, perhaps the last of your kind. You've been forced to do so much, to grow so fast, that a part of you is honestly shocked you didn't snap along the path here. By surviving this journey… surely you've shown that you're mature enough. Besides, being able to awaken your dragon self, to get her input on what's going on, will only be good.

You even know that this is where you need to Awaken. You like Agrithe, but it's not home. It's not the world you grew up in, the one where you and your dragon have countless memories. Taking this step anywhere else is out of the question.

In fact, the only thing that stops you from reading further is the fact that you don't want to be alone. If you'd been walking the Path normally, the thought of carrying out the Awakening without your parents would have been utterly unthinkable. Why would it be any less unthinkable to not have your friends with you? After all, you could have just helped Artemis get off the mountain then stayed here. You would have saved yourself a lot of trouble.

However, is a life spent alone really living? Or is it just surviving?

You shake your head, rolling up the scroll. You'll go to the Hall, get that all sorted out, then you'll come back and get Artemis and Kelton and Belle and Sypha and… and as many others as you can. It might take a little while, but you have a good feeling that you'll be able to do it.

No, you'll make it happen.

Standing, you look around your home, thinking. Nothing much seems to have changed since you were last here, but it was only a few days ago, so that's not a huge surprise. You'll probably be here for a few days before Lacroix arrives, so you'll have time to see if there are any signs that Baron Cicenco tried anything.

The first order of business is to check the ward on the stairs. When you arrive, you let out a breath of relief when you see it's still holding. Barely; it's all but flickered out, but with a bit of work you're able to kindle it back to life. You sigh as you look over it; at this point, the runes are basically burned out: you don't think you'll be able to charge them again without fatally compromising them.

Well, it'll be a chance for you to practice your runewrighting. Pulling your backpack off, you sit at the top of the stairs, unroll Runewrighting, and start delving deeper.

As you read, you're grateful that you've been practicing with James and Siri, so you're not lost as you start going over the formalized instructions of things you remember Father telling you more casually. As it is, you're able to fairly quickly remind yourself of terms and procedures before delving into the meat of the introduction.

Originally, back when manakete were just becoming people rather than dragons, magical runes were just written instructions in Makai backed by powerful magic. However, your ancient ancestors quickly learned that such a process was extremely inefficient, slow, and prone to errors. Therefore, the ancients set about formalizing and studying the flow of magic, to better represent it in stone and clay. Over the centuries and millennia, they discovered not only a more effective method of writing magic into stone, but also several important rules.

First, they found that runic structure follows "free-form" magical structure. Which is to say that each manakete, when designing a rune, will design it slightly differently even if they are trying to do the same task. True, someone could just copy another's runes, which was done for simple things like enhancer tablets or small hand-lights. However, the second a manakete needs to do something more complicated and specific than these formulaic tasks, any attempt to just use another's rune will quickly fail.

Of course, they also discovered the burnout problem. Stone, clay and paper are not blessed by the Mother to be able to channel magic the way a mortal body is, nor can they heal themselves from any tiny, imperceptible damage a cast spell might do. Over the years, these small pieces of damage would add up, eventually causing the whole system to fail. Repairs and work-arounds could be made on the fly, and serious repairs could be done via stone-shaping rituals, restoring the runes to their original shape.

You glance at the flickering ward down the stairs. Maybe… maybe you wouldn't have to tear the whole wall out. If you can figure out stone-shaping, then you might be able to fix the thing yourself. You'll have to delve pretty deeply into Red magic to do that: Mother'd said that stone likes being the way it is, and convincing it to be anything else without smashing it was more art than science, but you're sure you can learn to do it with some effort.

In fact, now that you think about it, why wouldn't manakete just use stone-shaping to draw runes in the first place? After all, when you can simply tell the rock to be whatever you want it to be, wouldn't that allow for a lot finer detail? Giving into the urge, you skip around the scroll a bit before finding your answer: that's exactly what talented runewrights do. You must just have forgotten or never seen Father doing it.

Skipping back to the basics, you wonder if that's why human runes seem so… clumsy and less complex. Jenna had said that humans don't do rituals as much as manakete did, maybe since they can't do stone-shaping they can't make any of the really finicky, complicated runes since they have to chisel everything out? Or maybe they're still in the process of figuring out that everyone's runes come out a little different, so they're just all copying off each other and some of the more complicated runes break when you do that. Shrugging, you continue reading: just something else for you to teach them.

When it comes to the rules of runewrighting, you're reminded of a few things. Outside of designated and designed connection points, rune-lines must never touch, that would cause the magic to get confused and burn everything out. The entire rune must also form a circuit: if magic is able to, it will escape into the environment and be lost, massively decreasing the life of the rune. There's always going to be some bleed-off, that's inevitable, but if there are open flows that bleed-off will increase exponentially. This's the main difference between runes and free-magic: they have to conserve the energy they had so they can last.

Which led to another rule of runes: they need feedback loops to maintain their charge long-term. Arcane energy doesn't simply sit still, it always has to be doing something. By using feedbacks, it could actually build up energy, becoming stronger than what was put in. However, you couldn't have more feedback-looping than you had bleed-off; that would lead to the rune tearing itself apart as there was too much energy in it.

It was theoretically possible to perfectly balance the amount of feedback with the amount of bleed-off, making an eternally self-perpetuating rune structure. However, such things never truly lasted, as the runes would begin to burn out, which would unbalance the structure and usually cause it to slowly bleed-off energy and die, though on some occasions the location of the burnout would cause the energy to build to explosive results. No, the scroll insisted it was best to accept that your runes would need recharging and not make anything dangerous.

The more you read, the more you were reminded why Father spent so much time with paper. Everything had to be properly calculated and measured, every archon of energy accounted for. It was one thing to fix something that already existed; you just had to do a quick check that you weren't unbalancing it, something you could usually tell just by looking at an active rune. It was entirely different to plan the whole thing out from scratch, knowing that if you messed up, at best weeks or months of work would be wasted.

At worst, you'd blow yourself up.

Your hopes of quickly throwing together a rune to protect your home slowly fade: it will take a lot of work. Taking a long, slow breath, you look down the stairs. It's still not a bad idea. Even if you can just make something that will jolt any revenant or doog that tries to come up, making it think twice, it won't be useless. Besides, you probably have a few days before Lacroix gets here: you can at least get started.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a roll of blank parchment, a measuring tool, and a piece of charcoal sandwiched between some wood that James had called a "pencil" and got to work.

---

It was three days later that Lacroix found you lightly banging your head against the broken bannister at the top of the stairs. "Ryza?" he calls softly, holding up his torch. "I saw your message by the entrance, are you well?"

Slowly, you turn and stumble over to hug him. "Save me from maaaaaaatttttth…" you whine into his chest.

Infuriatingly, the human simply laughs and pats your head. "Trying your hand at rune construction?" he asks, looking at the piles of paper and parchment with scribbles all over them. "Is this your first time?"

"Making one? Yes." Sighing, you pick up your most up-to-date model and show it to him. "It just won't balance! I've been working on this ever since I got here and it just won't balance."

The man raises an eyebrow as he looks your work over. "This is very complicated," he says. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to make a replacement ward for the stairs, since that one's on its last legs," you say. "It doesn't have to be anything fancy, just something to make the monsters think twice before coming up here."

Lacroix frowns as he looks over your work. "Ryza, you are a very bright young lady, but do you really need all these parts?" he asks. "I think your problem is you're trying to have it do too much." He points. "This bit of Black magic; that's to detect when a monster comes, right?" You nod. "Maybe make that less complicated: have it just figure out something's there."

You frown. "But that means I'll be blasting people too if they try to pass," you say.

"Then put a warning sign telling people not to," he says. "This is your home, you can tell people where they can and can't go." He taps the scrawled equations for the White magic section. "And you can make this a little less forceful: that'll mean that if a human does get hit, they won't die. White magic can easily be made non-lethal, priests and clerics do it all the time, and it will still give monsters a hard time. You seem to mostly have those balanced; if you just put them in then you'd have a functional rune, which is what you want."

Well, when he put it that way… "I guess…" you say. "But the Yellow energy streamers will extend the life of the rune by-"

"It's better to have something simple that works than something complicated that doesn't," Lacroix says gently. "Especially when you're starting out." He crouches down. "Ryza… I don't know if anyone's said this to you recently, so I will: you are brilliant. However, you're still mortal. You don't have to do everything all at once. You can take smaller steps; nobody will think less of you."

You flush slightly at the complement. "Thank you," you say.

"You're welcome, Ryza," he says. "Do you want to finish this before we leave? I'm no master of runes, but I could probably help."

You're tempted, but then you remember why you need to get to the Hall fast. "No, no," you say. "I want to go and get accredited, and I'm sure you're really busy. I don't want to waste your time."

He laughs gently. "Time spent with you is never wasted, Ryza," he says. "But yes, I suppose we should get you to the Hall sooner rather than later. Callista's not happy that I'm going at all." He sighs. "In fact, we'll have to briefly stop off at the castle on the way. She said that if I'm going, I should do something useful while I'm there."

"Wait, we're going to Castle Southlands?" you ask warily.

"Southguard," Lacroix corrects. "And yes, I'm afraid so. Please, do not worry. Callista doesn't know who or what you are; as far as she's concerned you're just an apprentice I'm transporting in return for the information Jenna gave me." He grimaces. "While she's not happy with you, I don't foresee her giving you any problems, especially if you stay with Firescale and avoid her."

"Okay…" you say.

The pair of you stand in silence for a moment before Lacroix looks around. "Let's gather all this up, it'd be a shame to let it all go to waste, and you can do some redesigning while we travel. It'll take at least a week to get to the Hall, we'll have time."

"Okay," you say again, more enthusiastically.

It takes a while to gather up all your scattered things (you'd ended up camping out near the peek-balcony rather than the main entrance, since you don't think anyone knows about that one.) However, you're soon getting reacquainted with Firescale's back as she leaps from the mountain, gliding to gain speed before flapping and turning west.

The flight to Castle Southguard takes most of the day, though there is still light in the sky as you study the place. It's about the same size as Castle Agrithe, but is built up on an island in the middle of a river rather than just being near it. In fact… as you look it over, you get the feeling that it was built with defensibility in mind. Even attacking from the sky would be insanely dangerous, from the number of upwards-facing ballista and the trapdoors you see in the roofs of the towers.

As Firescale gives her roar of both greeting and warning, you get a closer look at the people. You admit you're a bit surprised at just how… similar, they seem to the people around Castle Agrithe. If you didn't know any better, you'd think that you were just in another of the Kingdoms, not in the Empire.

You suppose that says something about how humans aren't really all that different from each other, doesn't it?

People calmly but swiftly move out of the wyvern's way as she comes in for a landing, her flaming wings burning bright to produce lift and shed speed. Still, she jolts a little as she hits the ground, her talons gripping at the torn-up soil in front of a large, stone building on the opposite side of the courtyard from the stables. A moment later, her wings cool as she folds them down to walk on, crooning as she glances back at her rider.

"Good girl, Firescale," Lacroix says, petting her neck and scratching her behind the horns before easily slipping off her back. You almost instinctively spread your wings to hop off yourself, but you remember that you're in hostile territory in time and stay put. Lacroix, without missing a beat, walks around her wings to your side and offers his arms. "It's alright, Ryza, I've got you," he says soothingly.

You try to put a note of nervousness into the way you turn on the wyvern's back before sliding down her haunches into the mage's waiting arms. "Thank you," you say as he sets you down. Be like Gwyn; even though you can't use that name since people might have heard of Gwyn from Glenhaven.

A few men come over, respectfully nodding to Firescale. She looks them over before snorting and pushing her way into her den, turning several times in the burned, clawed stone nest she'd made before settling down. "Master Skyfire," the leader says. "It's good to see you've returned. Countess Wilhelma wished to speak with you as soon as you arrived."

The mage nods. "Of course, gentlemen," he says. "Ryza, stay with Firescale. She'll keep an eye on you until I return." The wyvern's head raises at her name, and she softly croons.

"Yes Master Skyfire," you say, curtsying.

He nods smoothly. "Firescale, protect," he says, pointing to you. The wyvern hisses agreeably, her eyes fixed on you for a moment before scanning the other men with a slightly more menacing air. The men notice, and all take a slight step away from you.

Lacroix, meanwhile, turns to leave. "I'm sure Firescale would appreciate some food, gentlemen," he says. "As would Ryza."

"Yes, Master Skyfire," the leader says. Lacroix nods to him before striding towards the main castle building, his long red cloak billowing behind him dramatically.

Do they take lessons on that in the Empire? How to make your cloak billow?

As the three men hurry off, you carefully make your way over towards Firescale. She likes you, but it's still a big step whether she'll let you into her den or make you sit outside. The big wyvern studies you for a few seconds before leaning out, curving her neck around you, and ushering you in. "Thanks, Firescale," you whisper in Makashi, and she croons in response.

You spend the next hour or so simply watching people move around, nibbling a bit at the tough bread and cheese the men brought you along with a large, dead sheep for Firescale. The more you watch the Imperials move around, the more you get the feeling that they're not… bad people. They're just like the people at Agrithe; men and women hustling around, shouting at each other not because they're angry for the most part, but just to be heard. Children run here and there, some playing games while others do various chores. People stare at you, but seemingly more because you're a stranger who's somehow convinced a wyvern to let you into her nest rather than anything you've done. However, for the most part, they're just… people, going about their lives, doing various tasks.

In fact… you frown, the movements they're making seem to be just less-frantic versions of the ones that you'd seen the people at Agrithe doing before you left. Soldiers are marching about, officers shouting orders and giving directions. Weapons are being sharpened or repaired, supplies are being gathered. A few new carts even arrive while you're watching, and are swiftly moved to the side to make space for more as they're unloaded.

You shiver. It seems that, while they're not doing as much of it as the Kingdoms are, the Southlands are preparing for war too. Bitterly, you slump back against Firescale, who looks at you oddly. "Sorry," you say, petting her nose. She huffs before going back to the bones she's cracking open for marrow.

'Why can't they just get a High Lord or an Arbiter to sort this out?' you think sadly. You don't want there to be a war: a lot of people will get hurt in a war. Surely these aren't bad people; they're probably just doing what they think is right. Stupid Regent, making everything worse. Maybe if you foil his plan at the Hall like you foiled his plan to kidnap Artemis, you can make it so he can't do anything else bad and the Imperials will get rid of him.

You're drawn from your hopeful musings at the sight of two figures walking across the yard towards you. Men and women scatter in front of them, bowing as they pass. Carefully standing, you try to get a good look at them. One is Lacroix, thank the Mother. He looks a little tense, but not dangerously so. In fact, he seems more… sad, than anything.


The second, however, seems to be walking in her own personal storm cloud. She's a lovely woman, but her face is twisted into a scowl as she stalks just ahead of Lacroix, not looking at him. You're slightly surprised that she… she looks like she's just a few years older than Artemis. Quickly running the calculation in your head, you estimate she's about twenty-one or twenty-two. However, from the look on her face she is not a woman to be crossed, so you weakly curtsy and try to avoid her eyes.

Unfortunately, she gives you a hard look as she reaches the entrance to Firescale's den. "So, this is her?" she says coolly, looking you over like you're something ugly and creepy that crawled out from under a rock.

"It is, Your Grace," Lacroix says softly, throwing you a reassuring smile from behind his lady.

You try to open your mouth, but the words seem to get caught on the way to your throat, so you simply bend your legs a little more, hoping that will satisfy her. Duchess Callista's frown deepens as she looks you up and down, starting to take a step forward.

A faint hiss stops her in her tracks as Firescale's eyes turn to her, a gentle but noticeable heat starting to emanate from her wings. "Down girl," Lacroix says immediately, and the hiss stops. However, the wyvern does not take her eyes off of the woman, who thankfully is studying the wyvern carefully as she steps back.

A long moment of silence fills the air before the Duchess looks back at you. "Firescale seems to like the girl," she says, obviously speaking to Lacroix rather than you. "And the girl seems to be comfortable in her presence."

"It took some work, but yes, Your Grace," Lacroix says easily. "Ryza fled the first time she saw Firescale."

"Hmmm…" Duchess Callista says, her gaze once more seemingly trying to stab you from the other side of the door. "Speak, girl. Who are you?"

You flinch, but rally as you shove your fear aside: it won't help you here. "My name is Ryza, Your Grace," you say, staying in the curtsying position despite your legs starting to ache. "Master Skyfire is taking me to the Marble Hall."

The mage subtly holds up a hand to stop you. "Indeed," he says. "She is a very promising mageling, she will do very well at the Hall."

Duchess Callista rolls her eyes. "Please, we both know you're doing it because you made a deal with that Flarestone woman for notes on your little obsession," she says bitterly. "And now you're going gallivanting off to the Hall when you're needed here."

Lacroix sighs. "Your Grace, please," he says. "I won't deny that the new notes play a part, but that does not change the fact that Ryza deserves to go to the Hall, that a lot of good can be done by her going there." He raises a conciliatory hand. "Besides, the new information that we found-"

"The animals have been dead for a thousand years," Duchess Callista says bluntly, turning to him. "The Emperor saw to that. Surely whatever little baubles and fables you and your friends are cooking up can wait until the truly important events of the moment are settled."

You are forced to struggle with the wave of rage that crashes over you. How dare she?! How dare she!?

Lacroix, obviously recognizing the dangerous crosswinds his lady had inadvertently flown into, lowers his voice. "Callista, please," he says gently. "I know you and I have never agreed on such things, but I won't be gone long, and it is important."

She folds her arms. "You don't need to be gone long for there to be trouble," she snaps. "Not when I've got the Regent riding my back and Rickman and Warwick nipping at my heels. Not when Sagnori's still bleating that he can't possibly raise his levies since they had that bad harvest, conveniently forgetting that I was the one who sent food too keep his people alive, and Mitoral's just being a pain for the sake of it!" Duchess Callista's shoulders slump, her voice suddenly sounding very tired. "I need everyone I can trust right now, Lacroix. I need you here, not flying off to the other side of the Empire."

Despite your rage, a flash of pity crosses your heart as you recognize the dark bags, carefully hidden by some sort of makeup, that are still visible under the duchess's eyes. For all that she's on the wrong side of all this and being very rude about it, she doesn't seem to be having a good time of things.

Well, she still should keep her stupid mouth shut about things she knows nothing about.

Slowly, the mage steps forward and puts a hand on the woman's shoulder, and she doesn't pull away. "I'm sorry, Callista," he says softly. "I'm sorry, but I do have to do this. I promise, though, I won't be long."

She looks up. "Just… just drop the girl off," she says. "Drop the girl off, then get back here right away. Promise me that, Lacroix."

He pauses for a moment before nodding. "I will, Your Grace," he says more formally. "I will drop Ryza off and then come straight back here."

Darn. There went your easy ride home.

Looking slightly mollified, Duchess Callista turns and walks towards a group of armored men who are standing near the stables, seemingly arguing over a piece of parchment hanging from the door.

Lacroix sighs as he turns back to you. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Ryza," he says softly, gesturing. "We should go; the sooner I'm out of sight, the sooner she can find something else to fume about. At least until I get back."

As Lacroix helps you onto Firescale's back and gently guides her out of the den, you resist the urge to say anything as you look around. People once again clear out of the wyvern's way as she bends to let her rider mount her. Duchess Callista seems to have solved whatever issue was going on, and is now staring at the two of you coolly from across the courtyard. You shiver slightly as your eyes meet for a brief second, and you can tell that she's still got you on the dissection table in her mind, trying to figure out what makes you special.

Hopefully she won't come to the real answer until you're well away from her!

A moment later, you're distracted as Firescale spreads her wings, flame filling up the membranes as she roars. Without a convenient jumping point, she's forced to flap hard, scorching the ground beneath her as small jets of flame shoot out. Finally, with a mighty cry, she jumps, defying gravity and clawing towards the sky.

As she circles around the castle before turning northwest, Lacroix pats your arms that are held around his waist. "I am sorry, Ryza," he says sadly. "Callista was more upset than I'd imagined; I hadn't thought she'd confront you like that."

You want to say that it hadn't been that bad, but that would be a lie. "Why… why was she so angry?" you ask.

The mage sighs. "Callista… Callista's under a lot of stress right now," he says. "Her father died not too long ago, and she's still having to assert her authority over her vassals. Some of them have been testing her to try and find the limits of her patience and her power. And now… well, now all this is happening." You can't see his face, but you imagine that he looks sad. "It doesn't excuse what she said, that was cruel of her, but… but I hope you can understand-"

"I've been under a lot of stress too," you say, forcing your voice to stay mild. "But I don't go randomly snapping at people and insulting their species to their faces."

"To be fair, she didn't know she was doing that," Lacroix says. "I did not tell her of your nature, and I don't intend to. Not until you're ready." He frowned. "Although… it is possible she will be able to figure it out, eventually. She's a smart woman; it'll take some time to put the pieces together, but she might be able to."

"Will you be in trouble?" you ask. "If you don't tell her?"

Lacroix laughs. "Oh, she won't be happy with me, that's for certain," he says. "But thankfully, there isn't much she can do to me. I'm a powerful enough mage, and a Phoenix Lord, that even if she were to fire me and try to blacklist me the vast majority of nobles would ignore her. She's not stupid, she knows that." His shoulders slump. "Besides… well, I like to think she still has some affection for me."

You cock your head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I knew her when she was growing up," Lacroix says. "My family has long served the line of Wilhelma, usually as wyvern riders. In fact, that was to be my role before my magic was discovered. Callista's grandfather himself paid for me to go to the Hall for my education, and when I was finished I returned." He looks back at you. "I am not Head Mage of the Southlands because it pays the best or it's the most prestigious or anything like that. In fact, there have been many requests from nobles in Wyrmrise itself, even once from Emperor Thaddeus, Sentinel preserve him, to serve there. I stay in the Southlands because it is my home." He sounds sad as he turns back forwards. "Callista wasn't always like this. She was a bright girl, a cheerful one. She seemed to love stories of manakete; not the common tales of monsters, but of interesting things I'd found. I honestly thought I'd be able to make a Revisionist out of her."

You frown. "What changed?" you ask.

"She got married," Lacroix's voice darkens. "Duke-Consort Talus is a rich man, a powerful man. By almost all metrics, they were a perfect match: bringing influence from the heartlands of the Empire out to the periphery. They even like each other well enough, though not as much as I might have hoped for her." His hands grip more tightly at Firescale's reigns. "He, however, is from the heartland, and the anti-manakete sentiment is strongest there. Over the years… well, he, as well as the stresses of growing up, wore away at her faith in 'fairytales.'"

You look back. That just sounds sad. "How old was she?" you ask.

"Fifteen."

You blanche. "Why was she so young?!" you gasp. "Artemis is seventeen, and she's not…"

Lacroix sighs. "Women, unfortunately, are often pressured to marry early, while they're still developing their sense of selves," he says. "Callista's a bright woman, and she held her own on most things as she and her husband found equilibrium, but sadly some compromises were made." He glances back at you again. "Perhaps… perhaps once things are settled, and you can safely be open with your nature, you'll be able to rekindle her faith."

You study him, frowning. "You love her, don't you?" you ask.

He laughs gently. "I knew her father well; he was one of my best friends, my brother in all but blood," he says. "I never married; got too caught up in magic and Hall work and being Head Mage, but the day she was born… well, I promised Arnaud that if anything ever happened to him, I'd make sure Callista was taken care of. She's grown up now, she can take care of herself… but, well, sometimes daughters never really grow up in their fathers' minds, nor the minds of their 'uncles.'" He sighs. "So yes, I do love her. Certainly the girl she was, and despite what you might think of her, I do love the woman she is. For all that she has a short temper and a sharp tongue, she is still a brave, determined young lady, and Arnaud and I are both very proud of her."

You frown as you think. "So you're going right back after dropping me off?" you ask.

"I'll make sure you meet Archmage Stormspeaker, and he knows that I fully back you," Lacroix says. "But yes, I will be returning quickly. Don't worry, Archmage Stormspeaker will ensure that you make it back to Agrithe safely. He takes his responsibility as ultimate advocate for mages very seriously, especially when it comes to their relative independence from the nobility."

You frown thoughtfully. "How'd that get started?" you ask. "I don't remember much from the story I read about the first emperor and Thundercrier, but I thought I remembered that they were friends."

Lacroix nods. "They were," he says. "For a time, during the war, they were the best of friends. There are even some who claim they were lovers, though there's no evidence of that." He sighs. "Then… well, something happened. After the war, when Emperor Theodore was solidifying the new Empire, they had a falling out. Nobody knows what it was about, but Archmage Thundercrier insisted that, in return for the aid she'd given during the war, she be allowed to set up her own school, and that her students and their students and so on would have certain privileges. The Emperor didn't like it, but in the end he relented." He shrugs. "Even after the various independence movements began, the Compact has remained in place, ratified as-is by the newly independent kingdoms. The Whitewings occasionally talk about revoking their agreement, but in truth they need magic as much as everyone else, so it's all just bluster."

You frown a little at the blasé tone. "What if someone were to try and revoke it?" you ask.

Lacroix shakes his head. "It's never going to happen," he says firmly. "Nobody's mad enough to risk alienating the best source of mages in the world. They'd be stuck with hedge-mages, many of whom are good, don't get me wrong, but by and large they're nothing compared to a truly accredited mage."

Yet… yet you have evidence that it is going to happen, if you don't stop it. "But what if it did?" you ask.

Lacroix looks over his shoulder again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Why do you ask?" he says softly.

You hesitate. You had promised Archduke not to talk about the letter. "Sorry, I'm just worrying," you say. "It just… it seems like everywhere I've gone, something's gone wrong."

After a moment, the mage's eyes soften. "Don't worry, Ryza," he says. "I'm sure everything will work out."

The two of you fly in silence for a minute before you speak again. "Could you tell me what Duchess Callista was like when she was young?" you ask. Lacroix smiles, and for the next few hours, you listen to the stories of a kind but fiery young noble girl, someone who mixed Sypha's feminine charm and elegance with Artemis's strength and determination. You wish you could have met that Callista; you like that Callista a lot more than you like the tired, angry woman you met at her castle. You hope that you can keep your friends from growing up to be like Callista.

You'll just have to make sure they marry good people rather than jerks like she did.

Still, you can't be distracted by this for too long. The flight is nice; getting to see more of the world from the sky without having to worry about scared or angry humans. The company's nice too: Lacroix's stories of Callista drift back to his own childhood alongside Arnaud. You laugh at some of the silly stories of the two boys getting into trouble together, smile at his description of returning from the hall worried that things would have changed, only to find his old friend welcoming him with open arms. You stroke Firescale's side when she enters the story, hatched and raised by Lacroix.

The mage… despite the fears of some of your friends in the Kingdoms, you're certain he's a good man.

---

As the week-long trip passes, you find yourself unable to stop worrying about the future.

It starts on the second day, when you see a long column of armored men and women marching along the road, shepherded by groups of cavaliers and watched over by a wyvern rider. For a moment, you're terrified that they're going towards Agrithe, but after a quick check you realize they're heading north.

Lacroix frowns as he studies them. "Looks like a host from Meridiem is on the move…" he says softly.

You bite back the desire to ask for confirmation that they're going to invade the Northern Kingdoms or the Divine Realm. Unfortunately, you already know the answer to that. "That's a lot of people…" you say instead. "There must be thousands of them!"

The mage nods slowly. "Even leaving a defensive garrison behind to dissuade Whitewing raids, Meridiem has one of the largest levies outside of the heartland, and they can certainly spare the most for-" he stops, glancing at you. A long moment of tense silence fills the air before he glances down. "They're not going to the Southlands or the Southern Kingdoms. I'd know about that; Callista wouldn't have kept that from me."

You hug yourself as you watch the army fade behind you. "But they're going somewhere…" you say softly. "They're going somewhere, and people are going to get hurt wherever they go." How is Artemis supposed to fight that?! That's more people than you've seen in all of Agrithe, how can she stop them from doing whatever they want?

From there, you can't stop seeing the signs. In the various small towns you and Lacroix stop in, supplies are being gathered and shipped under the watchful eyes of soldiers. Other troops are also on the move; not as dangerous a force as the Meridiem army, but still more and more armed men going to snuff out the last lingering light of Solariana's dream, as well as anyone else that gets in their way. There is tension in the air, perhaps even fear.

You try to keep yourself calm: you're doing everything you can already. You're making sure that the Kingdom children at the Marble Hall will be safe, and that will dull some of the Regent's talons. You just have to have faith that Artemis and Archduke Letoro and everyone else will be able to take it from there.

Trying to distract yourself from things you can't control, you turn your mind to your magic. You decide, stressed as you are, you'll go back to what comes naturally to you.
(Yellow Learning Roll: 6/6)
The fourth night from Agrithe, you find yourself kneeling amidst a set of trees (well away from Firescale, who doesn't like it when you start playing with Yellow magic.) By now, simply calling up lightning and feeding it into Thunder's Cry is easy for you. Still, you practice a few time, sending second-tier bolts of lightning into a rock formation.

As you keep doing this, you watch the flow of magic. The more you look at it, the more you realize that… that you don't really need the tablet. Hadn't Runewrighting basically told you that runic magic was basically just normal magic, put into a more permeant form? Frowning, you watch the runes again, mapping them in your mind. Then, after a long moment, you put the tablet down, close your eyes, and try to use your own magic to reform the feedback loop.

It works! You feel your power building, beyond what you could do in anything other than desperation before. Giddy, you let the power build for another few seconds before unleashing it, sending an Elthunder bolt into the rock with nothing but your own power. Laughing, you rebuild the loop, feeding energy into it and letting it build up before casting another Elthunder. You're the best! Cackling madly, you start casting again; you can do this all night! You're the best Yellow mage alive, and you're going to make the humans-

Something in the spell goes snap.

Your laugh turns into a cry as the lightning breaks out of your control, and for the first time you can remember lightning hurts. Desperately, you try to ground yourself, but the magic continues to flicker around you. Gritting your teeth in pain, you try to wrap the energy around and away from your body. There's too much of it for you to control it all, but you're able to use some of it to make a rough barrier between the rest and your own delicate body. Finally, after several seconds of panicked focus, the Yellow energy begins to dissipate, allowing you let out a pained hiss as you look at the burns along your arms. They're not dangerous, but Mother do they hurt!

"Ryza!" Lacroix says as he hurries over. "Are you alright?!"

"Yeah, yeah," you say, carefully digging in your soul for your White magic. "Just got cocky while practicing Yellow magic." You weave a Heal spell as you direct the energy towards the largest burn.

The pain starts to fade, but you frown as you notice that it seems to be going noticeably slower than usual. Looking at the spell, you don't see any mistakes: it should be working. Gingerly, you touch your palm to the injury, hissing as the burned skin itches. Thankfully, that seems to work, and a moment later the wound vanishes.

As you continue touching your healing hand to the other burns, Lacroix watches you carefully. "That was quick thinking," he says after a moment.

"What?" you ask.

"Casting Barrier on yourself. You didn't mention you could do that."

You blink. "What? I did?" You look yourself over, trying to figure out what he's talking about.

It takes you a few seconds, but eventually you spot the thin sheen of active Yellow magic curling around you. You frown as you unravel it and dismiss the arcane energy, wondering how you'd done that.

Carefully summoning up a fresh batch of magic, you try to wrap it around yourself like you'd done when you were protecting yourself from your own stupid mistake. It took a few attempts, but eventually you figure out that if you tie the barrier into your aura of magic, you can get it to form a permanent barrier against magical energies. It's not a strong as a true magical shield, you'd proven that by being able to pierce it with your healing, but it was something. Also, now that you know it's here… it won't be that hard to modify the Heal to get through the barrier.

"Impressive," Lacroix murmurs as he watches you experiment. "Did you already read about how to do that, or did you just figure it out on accident?"

"Accident," you say, rolling through the scroll. It takes you a little while, but eventually find what you're looking for: the proper description of how to do what you'd done.

Honestly, it's not that much different from what you'd done. Since Yellow magic is the magic of energy manipulation, it's perfectly suited for forming barriers to increase a manakete's natural resistance to magic. Even Black magic, the normal counter to your magic, would be dampened by this kind of defense.

As you study it, you glance at Lacroix. "So… is this something humans can do?" you ask. "This spell works by tying into someone's natural defenses, and humans don't have natural magic."

The mage smiles. "Correction, we have weaker natural magic," he says. "If we didn't have any magic at all, we wouldn't be able to cast even with a tome. However, since we do have some innate magic, we're able to tie a Barrier into that to protect ourselves. Though, as you said, it serves as a secondary defense compared to more active defenses like magical shields or the ancient and noble art of dodging."

You can't help but giggle a bit as you re-cast your Barrier. "So I could cast this on you?" you ask.

He nods. "It will be a little trickier, but it is an important skill. Do you want to try?"

It takes two attempts, but soon Lacroix has a barrier wrapped around him, a thin sheen of Yellow magic that mixes nicely with his normal aura of Red magic. He experimentally lights a fire, his ring glinting slightly as he does, and runs it near his arm. "Impressive," he says when there's not the slightest burn. "I suppose you did say that Yellow manakete were the best at magic, and you were working in your natural element."

"We still have to work to learn," you say. "I guess I just got lucky."

Lacroix smiles. "In my experience, luck is something that happens to people who are prepared for it," he says. "But what were you doing before? I heard you casting, but I thought you were just practicing so you could make a good impression."

"I was," you say. "But I got an idea for how to cast second-tier lighting spells without Thunder's Cry, and I was able to get it to work," Much more carefully than before, you re-weave the feedback loop, casting an Elthunder at the much-abused rock. "I can do it, but as you saw if I rush it too much or don't pay attention it blows up in my face. It'll take some more practice before I'm really ready to do it."

"Still, that is impressive," Lacroix says. "Do you want me to add these new skills to your accreditation document?"

"Would you?" you say. "It won't be a problem that things keep getting added on after the fact?"

He nods. "Of course. And don't worry, it's not uncommon for the initial assessment to be made well before a student gets to the Hall, so it's quite normal for their growth to be recorded."

As Lacroix writes on the scroll, you glance down at Thunder's Cry. Now that you can cast Elthunder without it you don't need it anymore.

Unless… Carefully, you pick it up and take a few steps away from Lacroix, just in case. Then, with as much delicate care as possible, you begin to cast your magic. Keeping the main spell separate from the tablet, you build your own feedback loop, causing the energy to boil higher and higher. Then, just as the loop is about to shatter under its own weight, you put everything you've got into Thunder's Cry.

The results are everything you could have hoped for. The magic swirls and weaves, growing ever brighter until it almost seems to scream. However, the tablet and your own will holds long enough for you to guide it out and send it on its way.

A nearly solid rain of small bolts descends upon the rock, striking it over and over again as your magic flares and howls. All of this, however, was just the prelude to the massive bolt of power that descends upon the stone, shattering it into a million pieces.

Screaming, you dive for cover behind a tree, wincing as a few shards of stone slice through the air. Lacroix, meanwhile, looks over at you from behind his own tree, his eyes slightly wide.

"Sorry…" you say meekly as the echoes of the thunder crash fade away, nearly drowned out by Firescale's roar of fearful displeasure.

The mage takes a deep breath. "Note," he says, scratching a few more lines onto the parchment. "Can cast Arcthunder with tablet support." He takes another breath as he glances back at you. "That being said, Ryza, while it is good to know you can do something, can doesn't necessarily mean should. Something to keep in mind."

"Yes Master Skyfire…"

He takes another slow breath. "I think that's enough magical excitement for tonight," he says. "We're not that far from a town, and there might be patrols around. I think it would be best for everyone if we avoided having to answer awkward questions from Imperial soldiers until after you've been accredited." You wilt, and the mage smiles. "Tomorrow, once we've moved on and you've had some time to think, then I encourage you to continue training. Constant improvement is the mark of a good mage." He glances at the remains of the rock, raising an eyebrow. "Though perhaps we could do with less random destruction of scenery."

---

"Wow…"

It had taken several more days of alternating between worrying about the signs of war during the day and practicing magic at night, but you'd finally made it to the Marble Hall, and Mother it's so beautiful. it's almost a little hard to breath as you stare at it.

Situated atop a large hill overlooking the Verdant Wall in the distance, the main building is made of such a bright white marble that it almost seems to glow in the afternoon light. Surrounding the long marble building were five walls, formed into a pentagon, with towers at the vertices. Atop each tower was a large flag, one each of yellow, red, green, black and white.

Spread out over the rest of the mountain, sloping down from the main building, were dozens of other, smaller buildings. Many were made of the same white marble as the main Hall, though a few were a rougher grey stone. Still, all were clearly well crafted.

At the bottom of the hill, stretching out towards a river in the distance, was a large town. It wasn't as big as the few of the cities you'd seen on the flight over, but it was still much bigger than anything you'd seen in the Kingdoms.

There was certainly enough people! Even from this distance, where they looked to be the size of ants, you could see that there were just so many of them! Not just in the town, but walking up and down the curving paths and stairs that wrapped around the hill like string. Your mind feebly tries to count them, but you quickly give up.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Lacroix says. "Originally, the Hall was just that top building, back when the area was still overrun with monsters. Over the centuries, as the mages have pushed them back into the Black Forest, we've been able to expand to accommodate more students." He points to the town. "And as the Hall has grown, so has Quarry. It was originally… well, the quarry, as well as the living space for the workers, but by now it's one of the biggest towns in the Empire."

"Do students live there?" you ask. "Their families?"

"Sometimes, though not often," Lacroix says. "Mostly it's just an ordinary town. Older students are allowed to visit, and it's common for them to get service hours helping out the various inhabitants." You make a noise of confusion, and the mage continues as he starts angling Firescale downwards. "One of the laws Archmage Thundercrier set down was that her disciples were to use their power to better this world and its inhabitants. Therefore, to graduate, students need to have a certain number of service hours where they use their magic to help people." He chuckles. "The light mages and healers have the easiest time of it, but the rest of us manage."

You're not sure how you feel about that. On the one hand, obviously it's good that she told her students to do good. However… this is still the woman who helped wipe your people. Focusing on the moment, you frown. "Will I have to do that?" you ask.

"Yes, but I'd say you've already done enough," Lacroix says. "You've saved at least three people, likely many more. You've done your service." He glances back. "Most who come from the outside to get accredited are in the same situation; they've used their magic in the real world enough that they're considered to have done their due diligence already."

As you consider his words, Firescale lets out her landing cry. A moment later, an answering wyvern's call comes from the other side of the hill. When you jerk nervously, Lacroix laughs. "Don't worry, there are several dens spaced around the hill, none close enough for trained wyverns to feel threatened by each other." He points towards one of the rougher stone buildings. "You can tell that one's not occupied since it doesn't have a flag. We'll be fine there, at least as long as I can stay."

You sigh, remembering the promise Duchess Callista had dragged from your friend. "You're sure you can't stay?" you say, already knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry, Ryza, but I do have a duty to help Callista," he says. "But you'll be fine, I know you will be. As I said, Archmage Stormspeaker will take care of you."

You would have preferred a friend to take you home, but you suppose you'll take what you can get.

A minute later, Firescale brings herself down in front of the den, grunting in irritation as she looks it over. "I know, Firescale, I know, but we won't be here long," Lacroix says, petting his friend. She hisses, but settles her wings and crouches so you and Lacroix can dismount.

As you look around, you see a pair of girls approaching. One looks to be about fourteen and had bright red hair and green eyes, while the other's maybe ten or eleven and had light blue hair and eyes. Both are wearing identical brown tunics with dark leggings, and both had small white hoods with tiny caplets on their heads. Both also carry buckets.

The older one grins. "Hi, Master Skyfire!" she says cheerfully.

The older mage smiles, rolling his eyes. "Fillia, have you been on punishment detail the whole time I've been gone?" he asks good-naturedly, looking the girl and her friend over.

Fillia shrugs. "I'm sure there was a week or so I was free in there somewhere," she says casually.

This time, Lacroix sighs. "So, what was it this time, Fillia?" he asks.

"Got into a fight with a stuck-up noble girl who was talking down to one of the newer boys like he was one of her servants," Fillia says, jerking her head towards her friend. "I won, of course, and Calta held off her whole prissy posse while I rubbed her face in the dirt."

"Fillia, it's honorable to protect those less fortunate than yourself, but you shouldn't be using magic against your fellow students."

The redhead laughs. "Who said anything about magic, Master?" she chirps. "I punched the stuck-up bitch in her stupid face." Lacroix folds his arms and stares at the girl, who eventually wilts. "…which was wrong of me and I won't do it again."

Meanwhile, Calta was looking you up and down, frowning slightly. "So, who're you?" she asks. Fillia looks over, seemingly noticing you for the first time.

Lacroix gives you a nod, stepping back. Smiling, you nod to the two girls. "Hello," you say. "My name's Ryza. It's nice to meet you, Fillia, Calta."

Fillia blinks a few times before cocking her head. "Ryza… that's a weird name," she says. "Where do you come from?" She then winces as Calta kicks her in the shin.

You sigh, but push the flickers of irritation from your mind. "I'm from the Icewall," you say. "Near the Narrow Pass between the Empire and Legerius."

Rubbing her ankle, Fillia still grins. "That's so cool!" she says. "I'm from Palla, so we're not that far apart! It's always great to have more Whitewings!" She holds out a hand. "If you can, get the Masters to assign you to Highdance Hall: we free girls need to stick together to keep the snooties from bullying everyone!"

Taking the offered hand, you shake it. "Thanks for the offer," you say. "But I'm afraid I won't be staying that long. I'm just here to get accredited, then I'll be going back to Agrithe."

The two girls blink a few times before glancing at each other. Then, as one, they start laughing. "Hah, good one sis!" Fillia says, squeezing your hand before pulling you into a side hug. "But you're way too little to get accredited! Nobody leaves here until they're super old!"

Wiping her eyes, Calta grins. "Well, there was that sixteen-year old who graduated two years ago," she says.

"Ah, she doesn't count! She was some sort of super-prodigy princess! Not a shrimp like this one!"

Irritated, you tug yourself out of Fillia's grasp. "I am going to get accredited," you say, drawing your pride and determination together as you weave complex strands of lighting around your arms. "I may look young, but I am a mage in full."

The two girls instantly stop laughing as their eyes go going wide. "Wha…" Fillia gasps as Calta's mouth moves soundlessly.

Lacroix pats you on your shoulder, carefully avoiding the lightning. "She is that and more," he says. "Surely by now you've discovered that the Hall is not so ridged an environment: everyone grows at their own pace. Ryza has walked her path, and she's just here to take the next step."

Before either girl can get their wits about them, another voice cuts in weakly. "Lacroix… what's this?"

Glancing over your shoulder, you see another woman, this one an adult who looks about Lacroix's age. She wears a green cloak; not quite as long or billowy as Lacroix's, but certainly quite impressive. She's also staring at you like you're about to leap on her and bite her tail. Guiltily, you dismiss the lighting around your arms: you're not here to scare anyone.

Your friend sighs, but smiles. "Sunny, it's good to see you again," he says. "How've things been here?" He looks down at you. "Ryza, meet Sunny Highwind, a good of friend of mine from when I was a student. Sunny, this is Ryza, a young mage who's coming to get accredited."

Sunny simply stares at you. "No tome… no Guiding Seal…" she says. "How… how is she…"

"I work hard," you say, not quite willing to just go shouting your manakete nature to anyone who asks just yet.

"There's hard work, and then there's-"

"Sunny," Lacroix says softly. "Perhaps this is a conversation best had with Archmage Stormspeaker," He jerks his head slightly at the still-gaping Fillia and Calta. "There's a lot to talk about."

Sunny swallows, glancing at the girls. "I… I think he's observing Mistress Shadowsight's class right now," she says, trying to pull herself together. "I'll go get him. Meet in his office?" Lacroix nods. With one last glance at you Sunny hurries down the hill.

Sighing, Lacroix turns to Fillia and Calta. "Do not speak to anyone of this," he says. "Ryza deserves her privacy." He nods to Firescale, who'd made her way into the den and was looking out grumpily. "If you would also feed Firescale; she's worked very hard and deserves a treat."

The two girls shake themselves and nod weakly. "Sure thing, Master," Calta croaks. "Come on, Fillia; I'll raise the flag, you go get the food." The redhead nods, hurrying off.

"Well, that could have gone better, but could have gone worse too," Lacroix says as he starts leading you up the hill towards the main building.

You sigh. "Sorry if I made things worse…" you say.

He shakes his head. "No, you're fine, Ryza," he says. "Fillia and Calta are good girls at heart, but they do need to learn discipline and to not jump to conclusions. They were also being very disrespectful. You did a good job of asserting yourself." He rolls his eyes. "And don't worry about Sunny either. She's prone to catastrophizing: she's probably thought of all sorts of ways that your difference will doom the school and bring ruin to the world. She'll calm down, she always does." Only somewhat reassured, you try to distract yourself by looking around as you follow Lacroix up one of the many pathways towards the main Hall.

This proves to be highly effective, as there's just so much to be distracted by. Wherever you look, you see hooded young mages at work or play. Most seem to be in their teens, though there are a few that look to be either Sypha's age or as old as Duchess Callista. Most are in small groups, either chatting to each other, playing various games, or reading. There are some who are in larger groups, overseen by older mages with full cloaks, and you quickly figure out that these are classes. You see everything from groups of white-hooded students practicing healing magic on various small animals, to a group of red-hooded mages working together to try and shape large bonfires to their instructor's direction.

More than the people is the feel of the Hall. Everywhere you look, you can sense coils of arcane energy of every color. Vibrant Red burns from the hot forge where a group of older students discuss runes. Icy Green howls out of a gazebo just before you see a mage appear from nowhere, only to realize he'd mis-teleported as he lands half on a table and topples over with a cry. Dancing Yellow spins and twirls around a chorus of singers, with weary-looking students stopping to absorb the energy of the performance. Inky Black emanates from a circle of dark-cloaked boys and girls sitting in a circle under a tree, holding hands and chanting. Brilliant White shimmers around a healer's tent, with an older man folding his arms and frowning as a pair of sheepish-looking students hold out their burned hands.

This… this is a place of magic. In some ways, more even than your home, which was a home first and foremost, this Marble Hall is a place that celebrates magic for its own sake, not just as a tool to solve some task.

You're almost disappointed when you reach the great gate into the original Hall, which is open for all. However, as you pass in, there are far fewer students: this seems to be mostly the instructor's place. There aren't many, but a few older mages with full cloaks are gathered in small groups, talking, arguing, reading, and a dozen other -ings. Many glance up and give Lacroix a respectful nod as he passes. Some even throw curious looks your way, but nobody seems concerned or upset that you're there.

Entering the main building, you're guided up a grand central staircase before being led around what looks like the second floor. After a few minutes, you reach another, spiral staircase, flanked by two statues of a woman you recognize as Archmage Lenora Thundercrier. Lacroix leads the way up the stairs to a fancy wooden door with a bird-shaped knocker.

"Master Lacroix Skyfire," Lacroix says formally as he uses the knocker. "Here for an important meeting with Archmage Stormspeaker. While this is unplanned, I did mention that I might be coming soon." You throw a glance at Lacroix, wondering what he meant by that, only to blink as coils of Black magic emanate from the knocker. You hadn't even noticed the runes on it!

The Black magic washes over Lacroix, and a moment later there's a faint click and the door swings open. "Looks like he's expecting us," Lacroix says as he gestures you in. "At least enough that he set the door to let me in."

As you enter, you look around the large, circular room. It seems you're at the top of the big central tower you'd spotted on the main building. Large windows give a commanding view of the entire Hall and the land beyond, with a door leading out onto a balcony to give an even better view. The parts of the wall not taken up by the windows are dominated by countless shelves. Most are stuffed with scrolls and books, but a lot also have shelves full of various knick-knacks, some of which seem to be magical. A large yellow-gold banner hangs from the roof, depicting a pair of crossed lightning bolts, each with five keys hanging from them. They are crossed over a star with the five colors of magic at its points, and the top is dominated by a rainbow with a dark storm cloud on one side and a white, fluffy cloud on the other.

Around the top of the walls, over the shelves, are dozens of portraits. It takes you only a second to find Lenora, the largest of the portraits and set right behind the massive half-circle desk upon its dais. The rest, you imagine, are other Archmages.

"Wow…" you whisper, looking around.

"It's something, isn't it? Every Archmage from first to current has used this office, so it has a reputation to live up to." Lacroix walks up to the desk and pulls out one of the chairs offering it to you. "Archmage Stormspeaker should be here soon."

As you sit down, you're startled by a soft crooning noise. Looking over, you see a golden perch sitting of to the side. Upon the perch, pulling its head from under its wing, is a large yellow bird with blue tips to its feathers. Its long tail feathers crackle faintly with electricity, and its piercing eyes glow with an electric blue light.

"A thunderbird!" you say.

Lacroix nods, bowing slightly to the bird. "Tempest," he says. "Archmage Stormspeaker bonded with him early in his time as Archmage, and the pair have been inseparable since."

With a soft whoosh, Tempest spreads his wings and glides over to the desk, landing in front of you. Chirping softly, he cocks and turns his head to look at you from every angle, his large eyes glinting.

Carefully, you hold out a hand. You've never seen a thunderbird before, but you know they're almost as smart as manakete or humans, even if they can't talk. After a few seconds, the bird leans forward and gently nips at one of your fingers with his sharp beak, thankfully not painfully. "He likes you," Lacroix says as the bird tests a few more of your fingers before letting out another long note and flying back to his perch.

A part of you wants to go over and try to keep playing with Tempest, but you resist the urge: it looks like he wants to rest. Instead, you pull out the various letters and make sure they're all sorted right: one for Archmage Stormspeaker about the threat to the Kingdom students, your accreditation paper, a letter for Apollo… yes, they're all there. Lacroix raises an eyebrow, but doesn't ask as you put Apollo's letter away and set the others in front of you.

The sound of footsteps coming up the spiral stairs draws your attention. Swallowing your nerves, you wait for the door to open.

However, surprisingly, a moment later the doorknocker is tapped. "Master Donnor Blitzbolt," a rich, cultured voice says. "With an important message for Archmage Stormspeaker." The door hums slightly as its runes think, before the door clicks open just as it had for you. A moment later, they swing wide and a man steps in, his long yellow cloak sweeping behind him.


He stops just as he steps over the threshold, his eyes flicking between you and Lacroix. "Master Skyfire," he says. "What a surprise; Archmage Damien mentioned you might be coming, but I had not thought it would be so soon." He studies you. "And who have you brought?"

"Deputy Headmaster," Lacroix says, smiling and nodding. "It's a pleasure. I hope you've been well." He pats you on the shoulder. "This is Ryza; she's the one I mentioned in my letter."

"Truly…" Master Blitzbolt says, drawing the word out far longer than necessary as he looks you up and down. "You had mentioned she would seem young to be a full mage, but I had thought you were exaggerating." You shiver slightly; while his gaze is not unfriendly, there is a… sharpness, to it, that makes you feel like a goat in the gaze of a hunting dragon-form. "She does have… potential, though… far more than I've seen in a child so small…" He gives you a sharp look. "Where did you learn magic, child?"

You glance nervously at Lacroix. He hesitates for a moment, but nods slowly. "I learned from my mother and father," you say. "In the mountains over the Narrow Pass."

Master Blitzbolt raises an eyebrow. "I had not heard of any real mages living there…" he says. "Is that why you brought her, Skyfire? To ensure she gets a proper education so that her potential does not go to waste under the inept tutelage of hedge-mages?"

Anger sears inside you, but you push most of it aside to maintain control. "My parents are dead," you say shortly. "But they were the best teachers I could have ever hoped for."

The man's lip curls. "We shall see, I suppose," he says, casually waving a hand that glints with a ring just like Lacroix's. A flicker of Green magic crosses the room in a gust of wind, and another of the chairs in front of the Archmage's desk pulls itself out, allowing him to easily settle himself opposite you. "After all, I shall be overseeing your… proper, accreditation."

Lacroix frowns. "Both Mistress Flarestone and myself have tested Ryza," he says, tapping the scroll. "And both of us have found her to be exemplary."

"Perhaps, perhaps, but protocol must be followed," Master Blitzbolt says. "A true, proper test must be carried out here at the Hall."

You, however, notice a different issue. "I thought Archmage Stormspeaker-" you start.

Master Blitzbolt's sneer grows. "The Archmage is a man of vast talent," he says. "The demands for his time are beyond counting. He has more important things to do than cater to the whims of little girls." He taps a fancy-looking scroll you'd just noticed in his hand on the desk. "In fact, I had just come to inform him that a message arrived from Wyrmrise. The Regent himself has called for the Archmage to come and fulfill his role as Head Mage of the Empire."

Lacroix smiles coldly. "I believe," he says. "That Damien will be quite interested as soon as he hears of this young lady."

The other mage's eyes narrow, but before he can say anything else the door swings open.


The man who strides in nearly floors you. The last time you'd seen, you'd sensed, such a powerful and controlled collection of Yellow magic was when Father had been putting you to sleep. His sharp eyes take in everything in an instant, the tension in the air over his desk. He frowns slightly, but does not pause his steps as he walks to the almost throne-like chair on the flat side of the desk, nodding to everyone as he does. You almost don't notice Sunny joining you, looking far more calm than when you'd left her. You throw her a hopeful smile, and she smiles back at you.

"Lacroix," Archmage Stormspeaker says calmly once he's sat, Tempest gliding over to sit at the top of the chair, chirping happily. "It is always good to see you back in the Hall."

"Of course, Archmage," Lacroix says. "Thank you for taking the time to see us."

The Archmage nods, his eyes turning to you. "Of course," he says. "The accreditation of new mages is a vital part of the Archmage's duties." Master Blitzbolt frowns, and Archmage Stormspeaker nods to him. "Yes, I am sure that there is important business that you and I must speak of, but this young mage has come far to be properly honored, surely she has deserved her moment."

You swallow, but the memory of how many people are in danger steels your heart. "Thank you, Archmage Stormspeaker," you say, forcing your voice to remain steady amidst the swirl of arcane energy in the room. "But there is something that's more important than me that I need to tell you about, since your mission is to protect mages, right?"

Master Blitzbolt scoffs. "What possible threat could you warn us about?" he says. "We are in the heart of the Empire; no danger could reach us here."

Taking a deep breath, you push the letter from Archduke Letoro across the table to the Archmage. He raises an eyebrow, but accepts it. "What if… what if the Empire is the danger?" you say.

For a moment, it seems nobody's quite processed what you'd said. You don't look at Lacroix, not wanting to see the look of confusion, or worse, betrayal, on his face. Finally, however, Master Blitzbolt's face grows thunderous. "Clear those treacherous words from your tongue, girl!" he snarls.

Channeling your determination, you meet his eyes firmly. "I was not born in the Empire," you say. "I never promised the Empire, the Emperor, or the Regent anything. I am free, and I know what I'm talking about. I saw and fought against the attempts to kidnap children to use them against their families." You clench your fist, forcing yourself not to summon up your magic to make your point. "I will not see it happen to the children here."

Master Blitzbolt almost seems to expand as you feel his rage crackle around you. "You impudent-"

"Enough."

You flinch as Archmage Stormspeaker's sharp voice cuts the air. Turning, you see that he's opened the letter and is reading it. You start to open your mouth, but an instant later a coil of Red magic physically pushes your lips together. The Archmage doesn't even look up as he casts, simply continuing to read. Glancing at Master Blitzbolt, you get some satisfaction out of seeing his mouth similarly sealed. You could probably break the telekinetic hold on your mouth, but it's the point that matters, so you settle back to wait.

It takes several minutes, but eventually the man's cool eyes reach the bottom of the page. He then reads the letter again, as if checking to see if it's changed since the first time he looked at it. Then, finally, his gaze turns to you. "These are serious accusations," he says softly. A part of you wishes you could have read the letter, but Archduke Letoro had put a fancy seal on it, so you hadn't wanted to ruin the presentation.

Thankfully, you do know the gist of what it says. "It's a serious matter," you say as your mouth is released. "People will get hurt, some might even die. After everything that's happened, can you blame me for being careful? For wanting to be certain that nobody I love ends up in that situation?"

Archmage Stormspeaker's eyes narrow slightly as he glances at Lacroix. "Master Skyfire, your thoughts?" he asks, pushing the letter over to the man.

Swallowing, you glance at Lacroix, trying to suppress the flinch as the worried, upset look he's not quite able to hide as reads through it as fast as he can. However, after a moment, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and speaks. "Ryza… she's an intelligent young woman. She is also… she has her reasons for what she does." He looks at you for a moment. "I believe she believes this, and I can see why."

"I see," Archmage Stormspeaker says softly, taking the letter back. He studies it again for a few more seconds before slowly rolling it up. "I will need to carefully deliberate on this situation," he says, setting the letter aside. "But there are still matters that must be seen to."

Master Blitzbolt grits his teeth. "Surely this child has already had her little bit of fun," he snarls. "Tell us, what runic item did you steal to-"

"No," Lacroix says. "Whatever Ryza's other reason for coming here, she is a mage. She deserves to have that recognized."

You're surprised by just how grateful you are to hear him still defending you. "Thank you," you say softly, picking up the roll of parchment Jenna and Lacroix had made and offering it to Archmage Stormspeaker. He takes it, glances briefly at the two seals, before opening it and starting to read. With a huff, Master Blitzbolt stands up and walks around to read over his shoulder.

You hold out a hand to Lacroix under the desk. He hesitates a moment, but eventually he takes it, giving your fingers a squeeze as you watch the two mages read. Neither of them say a word, though you do spot some expressions, things like a mildly raised eyebrow from Archmage Stormspeaker and a barely-audible scoff from Master Blitzbolt.

However, it's abundantly clear when they reach the end of the results of Jenna's test and read the addendums. You know the instant they first see the confirmation of what you are. Both mages go ridged, and you force yourself not to squirm. Archmage Stormspeaker's eyes flick up, and you see complex weaves of Black, Yellow and Green magic flashing through the air between you. Master Blitzbolt's fist clenches against the back of the Archmage's chair hard enough to make the wood creak, his mouth twisting into a snarl. Still, neither of them say a word as they keep reading, even as Sunny glances in Lacroix's direction and shrugs a question at him.

Finally, however, Archmage Stormspeaker sets the letter down. Master Blitzbolt immediately grabs it and keeps reading, glaring at it so hard you're worried it's about to burst into flame even without him casting a spell. "Well," the Archmage says, rubbing his thin beard as he studies you. "This is certainly not how I expected my day to go." He looks you over again. "So… you're a-" he glances back at the letter, "manakete, are you?"

You nod. "I am," you say, scooting forwards in your chair enough to unfurl your wings. "I-"

"You can't be considering this!"

You flinch as Master Blitzbolt snarls, genuinely snarls. His eyes are no longer contemptuous as he looks at you… but the sheer, boiling hate in his gaze makes you cringe away and wish you'd put a Barrier on yourself before coming in. "You cannot be considering sullying the reputation of this Hall by letting this Fell-sworn animal wear one of our cloaks!? Archmage Thundercrier fought to exterminate these monsters, not make a haven for them!"

"And where in the rules does it say manakete cannot become mages of the Hall?" Archmage Stormspeaker asks softly, placing a hand on the raging mage's shoulder. "She passed the tests, did she not?"

"A Gorgon could pass the tests, but you don't see us rolling out the black cloaks for them!"

"Not the one about service," Lacroix says. "And Ryza has given freely of herself, used her magic for the betterment of others. Jenna told me of her heroism in rescuing young Lady Sypha from mercenaries." His eyes narrow. "Or do you think that kidnapping a child from her mother was just?"

Master Blitzbolt grinds his teeth as Archmage Stormspeaker nods slowly. "That is true," he says. "No monster would ever follow the first and most important Law of Thundercrier." He looks you over again, studying your wings intently. "That being said, in a… an unusual situation like this, you surely understand that I must be certain. Would you submit to another test, like the one Mistress Flarestone first gave you?"

You nod. "I will," you say. "I want to show how much I've grown… how much good I can do. For everyone."

"I must protest!"

"Your protest is noted, Donnor," Archmage Stormspeaker says dryly. "However, as Archmage, it is my opinion that matters, and I shall make up my mind after the test." He looks you over. "You have traveled a great distance, young one, and I'm sure you are tired. I'm sure you would like some time to rest. I will likely not be ready to give you your test until tomorrow, perhaps the day after. We shall see." Snarling, Master Blitzbolt starts to walk around the desk, only for a flicker of Red magic to hold him in place. "No," Archmage Stormspeaker says, his voice cooling noticeably. "We're going to have a little chat. In private." He nods to the door. "Master Skyfire, always a pleasure. I don't know how long you're staying, but you are welcome as long as you wish. Mistress Highwind, please help Ryza find someplace to stay."

The woman blinks and finally tears her gaze away from your wings, which your realize guiltily were right next to her face. "I- yes, Archmage Stormspeaker," she says, standing. "Ryza, if you would?"

You hesitate for a moment. On the one hand, you want to be here to protect your species from all the horrible things Master Blitzbolt's going to say about it. However, you don't particularly want to hear all the horrible things Master Blitzbolt's going to say about your species either. In the end, when Lacroix gives you a small nod, you stand. "Thank you, Archmage Stormspeaker," you say, curtsying a little.

He gives you a nod. "Whatever your species, Ryza, so long as you are on the path to becoming an accredited Mage of the Hall, you are due respect," he says. "We'll speak more later."

As you and Lacroix follow Sunny out, you feel Master Blitzbolt's eyes trying to burn holes in your back. You shiver a little: you may have taken an important step… but you also certainly made an enemy.


Now that you're at the Marble Hall, what are your immediate plans? Vote for as many as you want, top three will be chosen.

[] Find Apollo. Artemis has said so much about him, you want to meet him in person.
[] Try to find some of the revisionists Lacroix mentioned.
[] Try to study for the test Archmage Stormspeaker's going to give you.
[] Make a start on figuring out what humans know about spirits: they are your best path to making humans able to use magic without dragonstones.
[] See if you can find any books about human runewrighting.
[] Try to sit in on some of the classes you've seen around: some of them seem really cool.
[] Get the lay of the Marble Hall; the more you know of where everything is, the better.
[] Take a break: you've been traveling for a while. Just look around, see what sorts of interesting things you can find.
[] Write-in

AN: I might have gone a bit overboard on the length of this chapter… and yes, I absolutely cribbed from Dumbledore's office for Stormspeaker's.