The Chronicles of Krarshe: The Hearts of Men, Volume 1

Krarshe was beginning to regret his choice of seating in the classroom. It was an ideal spot, somewhere he could sit quietly and admire the courtyard. His game of counting stones in the early morning had amused him more than the lectures. As the year marched on, however, the chill of Harvest air crept in through the thin glass pane, and this game was hardly worth the discomfort.

Sirnus had passed without excitement or incident, as had much of Harvest. To Krarshe’s dismay, that included any meetings with Lycia. Now in the final quarter-cycle of the first half of Harvest, he had largely given up hope on seeing her. He had thought of every possible excuse and reason, over and over, to exhaustion. In the end, he decided it wisest to just not think about it. A short meeting amongst the many he’d encountered over his years of travelling. It still ate away at him, despite his resolution.

The Harvest winds blew strong, kicking up dirt and leaves from distant trees outside the city walls, and created a vortex in the barren courtyard where they were trapped. He watched as a single brown leaf escaped over the wall, settling just beyond the school’s gates. The imprisoned leaves settled as the winds died, before once again being stirred by another gust of wind, and launching even more leaves from the courtyard. A few poor female students got caught up in the storm of leaves coming in the gate, the wind catching them off guard as they tried to both shield their eyes from the dust and hold down their skirts.

“I don’t understand how you tolerate sitting beside the window,” said Bri, sitting down next to Krarshe. “It’s cold.”

“It’s a bit uncomfortable, but I still like it here. Gives me something to do during lectures,” he said, in spite of his previous thoughts.

“Uncomfortable? I’m shivering by the end of lectures.”

“And I can’t feel my fingers after but a short time into it,” Tibault added, sitting next to Bri. “Look, the rest of the class has moved away from the windows,” he said, gesturing to the rest of the students piling into the room. The rows of tables nearest the windows were largely empty, the students preferring to crowd onto the tables closer to the entrance.

Krarshe shrugged. “Beats being clustered tighter than a stone pile.”

“Not sure I’d agree...”

“Quiet down everyone!” Owyn said, entering the room swiftly, putting his books down on his desk the same way he did every day. “I have an announcement!”

The whole class started to murmur and whisper to each other. “An announcement? I wonder what it is,” Tibault whispered to Bri and Krarshe in the same way the class did amongst themselves.

“I wouldn’t get too excited. I suspect I know what it is...” Bri groaned. Her gaze seemed distant, like her mind was elsewhere. Before Krarshe could ask, Owyn continued.

“Starting the last five days of this quarter-cycle, and through the first five days of Second Harvest, the academy will be in recess. No classes will be held, and all students in the dormitory will need to make outside arrangements. Those incapable of doing so will need to discuss with me after class to see if special exceptions can be made.”

The murmuring of the class erupted into a delayed roar of excitement, as though they hadn’t understood the announcement at first.

“A break?! How is that not exciting?!” Tibault whispered excitedly.

Bri just held up a finger, before pointing toward Owyn. Almost on cue, he continued.

“Ahem! I’m not done yet. While this break may seem convenient for you students, it will serve two purposes for the academy. First, it will grant the professors time to assemble their research findings to present before the Council. Secondly, it will give us time to have repairs made to the training room...” Owyn glared at Krarshe.

“Well, that’s new,” Bri said quietly with a chuckle.

“At the end of this recess, there will be an exam. The first of several you will take before being allowed to move on to the advanced courses.”

“Aaaand there it is...” muttered Bri.

It took Krarshe a minute before it dawned on him. Bri had failed the exam. Repeatedly. It stood to reason that she despised the exams by now. Or dreaded them.

“The exam will be conducted individually, with each student being tasked with casting a spell before myself and the other professors. Which spell will be assigned the morning of the exam, and the demonstration will be held in the afternoon. Each student will receive a different spell, and you are not to discuss your spell with the other students, whether during your preparation or after the test. Doing so will be tantamount to cheating and result in immediate failure, as well as disciplinary action.”

The classroom turned quiet. All the previous excitement had drained from their expressions. As Krarshe surveyed the room, it seemed like only Armand retained his confidence. Always smug... Krarshe thought.

“Do try your best not to fail. The first exam is there to see your growth. It would be unfortunate to go through the bitter taste of failure on such an exam...” Krarshe thought he saw Owyn look over at him, but second guessed himself when he noticed Bri shrink back into her seat next to him. “Not that any of you have anything to worry about, of course. If you have been keeping up with the lectures and practical demonstrations, I have no doubt you will pass.” Owyn walked back to his desk and produced a book. “Let us begin today’s lesson,” he said, pulling out a piece of chalk.

“That seemed harsh,” Krarshe said as Owyn’s chalk clacked and screeched across the board.

“Quite unsettling,” agreed Tibault, wetting his quill as he began to write his notes.

Krarshe turned toward Bri. She sat there quietly, still cowering in her seat, staring blankly at the floor. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but no words came out. His mind raced as he tried to think of something, anything, to encourage her. In the end, he was left, mouth agape, without any tangible encouragement to offer. He sat back in his seat and looked out the window once more, forced to swallow his frustration.

Krarshe meandered around the store, inspecting the shelves of magical products. He wasn’t so much interested in the store itself, but figured knowing what kind of items were used by people here seemed a better use of his time than drawing on the dusty counter with his index finger. He weaved up and down the aisles of goods, trying to avoid the supervising student as they restocked the shelves. Apparently, Krarshe wasn’t even trusted enough to do that.

He pulled a scroll from the pile and opened it up. The alphabet they used for magic was still difficult for Krarshe to master, at least compared to what he used growing up at home, but he had enough time in the store to have gone over the notes Bri gave him to at least grasp the basics. Wall of flame, he read to himself before rolling it back up and returning it to the shelf. Removal of water... Dry? He thought for a moment on who would have enough demand for such a spell that they’d pay for a single-use magic scroll. “Oh! This one’s interesting...” he said out loud. Summon rain. Definitely a lot of potential uses. “I didn’t know they could use such grand spells.”

“Who?”

“People aro-” Krarshe caught himself, realizing someone had snuck up behind him. He spun around to see Lycia leaning in toward him, her green eyes shimmering with curiosity from under the dull brown hood of her cloak. Krarshe coughed slightly. “A- Ahem. Just... Mages. Here. In... Remonnet?”

“Why is that a question?”

Krarshe could feel himself losing control of the situation. “N-nevermind that. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Lycia drew back the hood. In the light, he could see her cheeks and nose were slightly red from the chilly Harvest air. “I-it’s not that... I didn’t want to come... Just... My training has kept me busy. A lot busier than I would have guessed. And more tiring. It makes the journey to Remonnet challenging.”

“Oh?” Krarshe saw a golden opportunity. He could feel his heart rate quicken. “Where are you from?”

“Huh? Oh, umm...” She laughed nervously. “I’m from Valenfort. It’s a small village to the south, just past the green fields, where the trees start to spring up again.” She laughed again. “Sorry, I... didn’t even realize I’d never talked about it.”

“You come that far?”

Lycia nodded.

Krarshe decided to push his luck a bit further, his heart pounding even harder. “Wow. I feel bad now. That’s a long way to travel to talk to me,” he said with a smile, despite the tightness in his throat.

“Oh, no, no. I umm... I have other things to do here too. Quite a few, actually,” Lycia said, frantically turning away to look at the shelves. Krarshe wanted to move to the side a bit, to catch a glimpse of whether or not she was blushing, but decided against it.

After a bit, he breathed deeply to calm himself. He decided to change topics; he hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to her in a long time, and didn’t want to let this time go to waste. “Has the training been going well?”

Lycia turned to face him again, mostly composed once more, and nodded. “I think so. Though I can’t say for certain. I still suffer from mana exhaustion daily, or nearly so.” She chuckled to herself. “Honestly, not a side of my mother I knew of.”

“Now I’m curious,” Krarshe pressed, laughing slightly.

“I feel like a poor slave girl! She’s callous and demanding!” Lycia shouted louder than Krarshe thought she’d be capable of. “I just... Ugh. It’s brutal.”

Krarshe just laughed. He hadn’t realized it until just now, but she seemed more confident whenever magic training was brought up.

“What’s so funny? I’m sure you’ve vomited enough times in your own training.”

“Actually, no. I can’t say I know the feeling of mana exhaustion.” He paused. “Not that I know of, at least.”

“R-really...?”

Krarshe shook his head.

Lycia’s face turned a bright crimson as she spun around. “Jeeze, you’re horrible...” she said, pulling her hood over her reddening ears.

“What did I do?”

“Here I am, telling you all this... embarrassing stuff and yet... You. You’ve NEVER gone through any of it... Argh! You’re awful!”

Krarshe laughed again. “Sorry, sorry. I just-”

“Excuse me! Miss customer,” the supervising student interjected, cutting between Krarshe and Lycia. Krarshe hadn’t even seen him approach. “I apologize for his abysmal behavior. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Lycia turned back around to face Krarshe and the student. Her face told Krarshe that she was just as surprised by the student’s appearance. “I- Umm...” She looked around the store, clearly trying to think of something.

The supervising student sighed. “Miss. This is not a place to socialize with your kind. If there’s nothing you need today, I must ask you to-”

“Oh, I need a scroll,” Lycia said.

A moment passed before the student spoke again. “What KIND of scroll? Do you know which spell?”

“Umm... Yes.”

“... And that is?” The supervising student was clearly getting impatient.

“A scroll of Abyssal Vortex.”

The student and Krarshe both stared at her blankly. While the student seemed dumbfounded, Krarshe was just impressed at how decisive her answer was. Is she actually here for that? What even IS that?

“Abyssal... Vortex?” asked the student.

Lycia nodded.

The student rubbed his eyes. “Miss, I don’t know who sent you here, but we do not carry such dangerous spells in our inventory. In fact, I don’t believe void spells are even inscribed as scrolls.”

“Oh, but I had one made by special request.”

“That’s not the issue... Void spells are-”

“The mages here are certainly impressive. I had my doubts too, but the instructor who was here had assured me they could complete my request.”

“Oh, is that what Professor Landry was talking about the other day?” Krarshe jumped in, trying to give credibility to Lycia’s tale. “He was mentioning he had made a spell scroll unlike any he’d done before. Was quite impressed with himself.”

Now outnumbered, the supervising student seemed at a loss. He sighed again. “My apologies. It must be in the back. Allow me to go search for it.”

“Thank you,” Lycia said with a smile.

After watching the supervising student disappear into the back room, Lycia and Krarshe exchanged glances before bursting into stifled laughter.

“That was pretty good. How’d you come up with that?”

“I just picked the most obscure spell my mom has mentioned.”

“Wait, that’s a real spell?”

Lycia nodded. “Incredibly frightening too. Or so she says. She wouldn’t show it to me.”

“What does it do?”

“I have no idea.”

“Huh...”

The two sat there quietly for a moment. The interjection had disrupted their previous conversation, but Krarshe didn’t really want to bring it up again. He didn’t want to sour Lycia’s mood again.

“So, have you learned anything new in your training?” Krarshe asked.

“I’ve learned a few arcane spells so far.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“Nothing particularly noteworthy. This is probably the most interesting one.” She gestured to the scrolls on the shelf. To Krarshe’s surprise, a scroll on top began to wiggle slightly before sliding off the pile, towards Lycia’s open hand. It touched the tip of her finger before suddenly dropping to the floor. “Damn it.” Lycia bent over and picked it up. She sighed. “Clearly, I still don’t have it mastered.”

“No, no. That was incredible!”

“If only it were more useful.”

“How is being able to move distant objects not useful?!”

“There’s quite a bit of limitations with the spell. Distance, weight, speed. You need to be able to see it. Honestly, it feels more useful to play tricks on people than anything,” she said with a wry smile.

Krarshe laughed. “That has its merits.”

“What about you? How is your training progressing?”

“It’s not. Well, not really. I have found a couple useful things, but I still just cast the spells they tell me to.”

“At least you’re getting to cast spells.”

“If only they’d come out correctly,” Krarshe muttered, mildly annoyed with himself.

“What do you mean?”

“Miss, are you certain there’s a scroll of Abyssal Vortex here?” the senior student shouted, popping his head out from the back room.

“Oh, yes. Very much so,” Lycia lied. “Just keep looking. I wouldn’t want to not pay for such an EXPENSIVE scroll.”

The student sighed again, audibly enough to be heard clearly from across the whole store. As suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone again.

“This could be construed as torture, you know,” Krarshe said, looking at her sideways, eyebrow raised.

“Torture? I would never...” Lycia quipped, smiling.

Krarshe shrugged. “I don’t particularly like him, so keep at it.”

The two shared a laugh again. Krarshe wasn’t sure why, but seeing her laugh made his heart race. Her bright smile, how she delicately brushed a tear from her eye after she calmed down, it was all having an effect on him.

Lycia was first to restart the conversation. “So, anything else? Have they discussed mana control yet?”

“Still no word on it.”

“That seems odd...”

“Especially if it’s as important as your mother says,” Krarshe said. “Oh, but we do have an exam coming up at the end of this quarter-cycle.”

“An... exam, huh?”

Krarshe couldn’t help but notice how she averted her eyes ever so slightly. “Is... there something wrong with exams?”

“No. Nothing...” Lycia replied evasively.

“You’re clearly avoiding the topic now.”

“I’m sorry... It’s just...” She looked around for a minute before continuing, quieter than before. “I don’t know if it’s right for me to say to a student, especially on school grounds...”

“I’d rather know than be left witless. The wisest decisions are made with all the knowledge one can gather.”

Lycia shifted, warily looking around the room once again. “Well...” She leaned in closer, making Krarshe’s heart palpitate. “My mom says this school doesn’t train mages...”

“What? That seems...”

“No, I mean. They’re producing soldiers. For the war. Just people they can put out there to kill people.”

This wasn’t what Krarshe had expected the secret to be. Before he could respond, Lycia continued.

“Because all they want are bodies to fill their ranks... Well, supposedly they try to intentionally fail exceptional mages...”

The blood rushed to Krarshe’s head, making him lightheaded for a moment. The notion seemed ridiculous, but it still struck a nerve somewhere deep down inside him. “Wh-” he started to shout before catching himself. “Why would they do that? That doesn’t even make sense,” he whispered.

Lycia looked around again, making sure Krarshe’s outburst hadn’t been noticed. “Apparently, magic instructors hold a fairly high position here. In Remonnet, I mean. Each of the professors here were assigned this position for being exceptional mages.”

“Assigned?”

Lycia nodded. “By the Council of Mages. And because they fear exceptional students catching the eye of the Council, the teachers here don’t want to let them graduate. It’d be effectively training their possible replacements, since the Council holds ability in high regard for teaching positions. If they didn’t hold a teaching position here, they would be sent out to the battlefields themselves instead of enjoying this high-paid, well-respected, and peaceful job. Of course, exceptions to this are made for those with connections to the Council for the sake of currying favor, but for the rest...”

“I’m... having a hard time believing you.”

“I know it sounds absurd. And, honestly, I don’t even know if it’s true or not. It’s just what I’ve heard from my mom.” Lycia jumped at a crash that came from the back room, followed by some cursing from the senior student she had sent to find her scroll. In even more hushed tones, she continued, “My mom used to be on the Council. Back before I was old enough to remember things. She says she left because she couldn’t abide by their approach to educating mages since the war started.”

“Still... Things could have changed, right?” Krarshe asked, still struggling to believe her tale.

“That’s true. It’s been many decades, and the people who now occupy the Council’s seats are likely entirely new. Well, at least the humans have probably stepped down by now. Or died.”

“Either way, no way of knowing without experiencing the exam myself,” Krarshe said more cheerfully than before, attempting to direct the conversation away from this dismal subject.

“Also true. Well, I pray you won’t be targeted for failure.”

“Why would I?”

Lycia raised an eyebrow. “From what you’ve said, at least, you’re quite powerful.”

“While this may be true, I also cannot cast a spell correctly.”

“They won’t care. Power is power to them.”

“You seem quite certain, Lycia.”

“I’ve just made up my mind about this academy. In addition to what my mom has said, they also exclude a gifted mage like you from classes, and apparently banish you to the store to wither away talking to customers.”

“Actually, you’re the only customer I talk with,” Krarshe admitted.

“Eh?” Lycia said, surprised. “I- Y- You-” she stuttered before turning away. Krarshe could see her ears turning red. “Just... me............ huh?”

Krarshe stood there watching her before his words finally sunk in. “Oh! Umm...” He could feel his face warming. “I- I didn’t mean... Umm... You’re just the only customer who’s around my age! And... Well... Ah! You’ve been the one coming to talk to me every day!”

Krarshe could see her ears turn even more red. His embarrassment was beginning to overcome him as well. He turned away from her bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

The adolescent elves stood there in silence, averting their gaze. The sounds of the senior student rummaging in the back room filled the store, an appreciated distraction from the quiet, awkward atmosphere.

“I- I should... go...” Lycia said, her back still turned to Krarshe.

“Y-yes. That... Yes. It’s... Umm... It’s getting late...”

“Well........ Bye,” Lycia said curtly before scurrying out of the store.

“B-Bye...” Krarshe managed to say as the door swung closed again.

“Miss, I really don’t think- Where’d she go?” asked the supervising student, once again emerging from the back room.

Krarshe looked over at him. He was covered head to toe with dust. It was almost as bad as after one of Krarshe’s sessions with Landry. “... She...” He looked out the window. She was already passing through the front gate and out of his sight. “She said she couldn’t wait any longer. Said she’d come back for it another day.”

“Curses...” he spat. “Well, good riddance. Fucking sprites...” he muttered, turning back to the back room, patting the dust off his uniform.

Sprites? Krarshe disregarded the comment and kept looking out the window. While Lycia’s words about the exam still gnawed at him, those thoughts had been pushed to the far recesses of his mind. His emotions had full control over him, as he felt lighter than ever before. As though he could burst out of the store and joyously sing to the heavens. No matter what he did, he couldn’t regain his composure. This inexplicable excitement choked him. But part of him enjoyed this feeling. In fact, he hoped to feel it forever.