of his thoughts. He hoped their
business with the Arcane University would be resolved sooner rather than later.
They would then spend a few days enjoying what the city had to offer and head
home.
With luck, they’d be back in
Drak-Anor before winter.
Chapter 6
The Arcane University was exactly
the way Pancras remembered it. Though the buildings were made from the same
stone as the rest of Muncifer, the embellishments made them appear warmer and
more inviting. The Blood Oak still stood in the center of the courtyard before
the unassuming building that contained the Court of Wizardry. It was a
quarter-century taller, but it was the same tree under which he whiled away
many hours.
Younger students, in their
mousy-brown robes, scurried to and fro, running whatever errands they were
assigned by their masters. Older students, wearing robes of various shades of
grey accented with the occasional colored sash, stood chatting or walking with
their noses buried in books. Only masters and visiting mages wore robes in
colors brighter than the surrounding dirt.
Pancras spotted a few people in
heavy armor carrying weapons and marching the campus. Those with tabards
bearing the insignia of the Arcane University—an eye, from which six hands
radiated, surrounded by a twelve-point star—were obviously guards. Those
stepping with purpose, their hawk eyes observing unfamiliar wizards, those
Pancras knew to be the slayers.
His eyes lingered on a
square-jawed minotaur guard cradling a broad-bladed axe. The minotaur’s arms
were tight cords of muscle straining against the weight of the blackened steel
blade. He felt his pulse quicken at the sight of the guard’s powerful legs when
he turned to speak to one his fellow guards. Pancras’s eyes lingered as he pointed
toward a pair of armored men walking past the guards.
”Slayers.”
“So they’re the ones who will
hunt us down if we don’t pay their… fees?” Delilah sneered as she passed a
female slayer wearing scale armor. The slayer cradled a spear in her arms like
it was a precious treasure. Pancras saw wisps of golden hair peeking out from
beneath her helm, wisps of gold thread seeking escape from their metallic
prison. For a brief moment, his vision darkened, the haze that lingered at the
edge taking over and then retreating once again. He pressed his knuckles into
his eyes and shook his head.
“Is everything all right?”
Delilah looked at him, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Fine, just a trick of the
light.” He returned to the subject at hand. “There was a time when slayers
would not be wasted on such trivial matters as collecting delinquent dues.”
Pancras held open the door to the Court of Wizardry building for Delilah.
Benches lined the hall, though no one was currently seated on them. At the far
end was a pair of double doors. Next to them stood a podium tended by an old
man.
“And yet, here we are. It took us
months to get here, Pancras. If all we do is pay some money and turn around to
go home, I’m going to be upset.”
Pancras placed his hand on
Delilah’s shoulder to reassure her. “You aren’t the only one.” Part of Pancras
hoped it was as minor as that, but another part of him hoped they didn’t make
this journey just to pay a fine.
The elderly man at the podium
served as the seneschal of the court. He glanced up from his ledger as Pancras
and Delilah approached. “Ah, an interesting pair. You have business with the
Court of Wizardry?”
“I am Pancras, First Nec—Wizard
of Drak-Anor, progeny of the Black Mountain. I was ordered to report by
Spring’s Dawning to answer charges.” The formality of his full introduction
felt stiff on the minotaur’s lips. His parents were born in Muncifer. Indeed,
one would have to trace back several generations before they found any minotaur
ancestors of Pancras residing in the villages at the base of Black Mountain. It
was the name under which he was enrolled in the Arcane University, though,
business with the Arcane University would be resolved sooner rather than later.
They would then spend a few days enjoying what the city had to offer and head
home.
With luck, they’d be back in
Drak-Anor before winter.
Chapter 6
The Arcane University was exactly
the way Pancras remembered it. Though the buildings were made from the same
stone as the rest of Muncifer, the embellishments made them appear warmer and
more inviting. The Blood Oak still stood in the center of the courtyard before
the unassuming building that contained the Court of Wizardry. It was a
quarter-century taller, but it was the same tree under which he whiled away
many hours.
Younger students, in their
mousy-brown robes, scurried to and fro, running whatever errands they were
assigned by their masters. Older students, wearing robes of various shades of
grey accented with the occasional colored sash, stood chatting or walking with
their noses buried in books. Only masters and visiting mages wore robes in
colors brighter than the surrounding dirt.
Pancras spotted a few people in
heavy armor carrying weapons and marching the campus. Those with tabards
bearing the insignia of the Arcane University—an eye, from which six hands
radiated, surrounded by a twelve-point star—were obviously guards. Those
stepping with purpose, their hawk eyes observing unfamiliar wizards, those
Pancras knew to be the slayers.
His eyes lingered on a
square-jawed minotaur guard cradling a broad-bladed axe. The minotaur’s arms
were tight cords of muscle straining against the weight of the blackened steel
blade. He felt his pulse quicken at the sight of the guard’s powerful legs when
he turned to speak to one his fellow guards. Pancras’s eyes lingered as he pointed
toward a pair of armored men walking past the guards.
”Slayers.”
“So they’re the ones who will
hunt us down if we don’t pay their… fees?” Delilah sneered as she passed a
female slayer wearing scale armor. The slayer cradled a spear in her arms like
it was a precious treasure. Pancras saw wisps of golden hair peeking out from
beneath her helm, wisps of gold thread seeking escape from their metallic
prison. For a brief moment, his vision darkened, the haze that lingered at the
edge taking over and then retreating once again. He pressed his knuckles into
his eyes and shook his head.
“Is everything all right?”
Delilah looked at him, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Fine, just a trick of the
light.” He returned to the subject at hand. “There was a time when slayers
would not be wasted on such trivial matters as collecting delinquent dues.”
Pancras held open the door to the Court of Wizardry building for Delilah.
Benches lined the hall, though no one was currently seated on them. At the far
end was a pair of double doors. Next to them stood a podium tended by an old
man.
“And yet, here we are. It took us
months to get here, Pancras. If all we do is pay some money and turn around to
go home, I’m going to be upset.”
Pancras placed his hand on
Delilah’s shoulder to reassure her. “You aren’t the only one.” Part of Pancras
hoped it was as minor as that, but another part of him hoped they didn’t make
this journey just to pay a fine.
The elderly man at the podium
served as the seneschal of the court. He glanced up from his ledger as Pancras
and Delilah approached. “Ah, an interesting pair. You have business with the
Court of Wizardry?”
“I am Pancras, First Nec—Wizard
of Drak-Anor, progeny of the Black Mountain. I was ordered to report by
Spring’s Dawning to answer charges.” The formality of his full introduction
felt stiff on the minotaur’s lips. His parents were born in Muncifer. Indeed,
one would have to trace back several generations before they found any minotaur
ancestors of Pancras residing in the villages at the base of Black Mountain. It
was the name under which he was enrolled in the Arcane University, though,
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