No Class Found

Doc followed the Academy magister through the eastern gate.

Ironha stayed close beside him. Calen fell into step on his other side while Fish paced ahead, her attention moving across the shifting crowd.

The Arc Quarter opened before them.

Doc's gaze moved up the three- and four-story buildings. Most were built in the Imperial style, with straight facades, evenly spaced windows, and carved columns around the entrances.

The streets were wider here than in the other parts of Glasshold he had visited, paved with smooth flagstones instead of packed earth. Carved signposts stood at each intersection, using the same Imperial markings Doc had seen in Marron's guild documents.

People moved through the streets in clusters. Students in Academy robes carried books and supply bags. Merchants in fine coats negotiated outside shops where goods sat behind enchanted glass. A pair of magisters walked past, their conversation pausing as they noticed Doc's armor.

Others slowed as well.

Two Imperial soldiers stationed near a side street straightened as Doc approached, their eyes tracking him until he moved beyond their post.

Doc noted the attention but continued walking.

Ironha moved slightly closer.

"Are they always this interested in visitors?" Doc asked quietly.

"Not usually."

Ahead, a merchant stepped out of Doc's path without looking up from his ledger. A younger man carrying a crate of supplies walked directly toward them before his companion caught his arm and redirected him.

More people were staring now.

An older woman in elegant robes paused near a fountain. Her gaze fixed on Ironha for several long seconds before she turned away.

Doc leaned closer to Ironha.

"What's with all the stares?"

Ironha's smile did not reach her eyes.

"It's probably rare to see an elf up north."

Doc frowned.

"Why?"

Ironha glanced at him, then ahead toward the magister still leading them through the district.

"Most elves live farther south," Ironha said. "Forests, riverlands, places with longer growing seasons. Our magic tends to lean toward things like growth, wood, water, and light."

She gestured toward the snow-covered rooftops and the stone buildings around them.

"We can live in places like this, but most elves don't choose to. The North isn't well suited to the kind of magic many of us practice."

We should acquire more books on the subject, Lux said. We have observed several forms of mana use, but I still lack a clear understanding of how the people of this world classify them.

Doc had been wondering the same thing. They had seen healing, ice, wards, runes, and stranger abilities, but no one had ever explained how any of it fit together.

"How many types of magic are there?" Doc asked.

Ironha glanced at him.

"Types?"

"Classifications. Fire, ice, light—how many exist?"

She hesitated.

"I don't know if anyone's ever counted them all."

Doc stopped walking.

Ironha stopped beside him.

"You don't know?"

"There are schools," Ironha said. "Elemental, restorative, transmutation, enchantment, divination—those are the main branches. But within each branch, there are dozens of variations. Hundreds, maybe."

She gestured vaguely.

"I am honestly probably the worst person to ask, I was a low level healer when we first met, even now I still feel out of my depth when it comes to any magic but the restorative magic."

Doc looked at her.

We should find a way to get access to the Academy library, Lux said. Our records on local magical theory remain inadequate.

You want books.

Several.

Doc chuckled at that.

They had reached the base of a wide staircase carved into the mountainside.

The Academy rose above the district, its stone halls climbing the cliffside. Crystal veins ran through the walls, faintly visible even from the street. Two towers stood near the main entrance, where Imperial banners hung beside the gates.

The magister turned toward them.

"The Archmagister is waiting."

Doc looked up at the Academy.

Then he started climbing.

They passed through the Academy's main entrance.

The corridor emptied into a broad hall. Crystals set into the stone gave off a pale light that stretched across the floor.

Students crossed between the adjoining passages, most in well-made robes marked with embroidered crests or silver trim, a few with snow still tracked across their boots. Some carried enchanted bags with glowing seams; others held dark wooden staffs worn smooth from use. A few glanced toward Doc as he entered, then returned to their conversations.

A girl in violet robes gestured toward a levitating sphere of water as she spoke with two others. The water shifted shape—first a cube, then a spiral—before collapsing back into a sphere. Her companions nodded, one taking notes in a leather-bound journal.

Farther down the hall, a boy stood alone near a pillar, tracing a rune in the air with one finger. Orange light followed each stroke, leaving an angular pattern suspended before him.

One of the lines came out crooked. The boy frowned, let the rune fade, and started again. This time, the completed pattern glowed more brightly before disappearing.

Two magisters walked past, deep in conversation. One gestured toward a scroll he carried, the other nodding as they moved toward a side corridor without breaking stride.

Doc glanced toward Calen.

The boy walked beside him with his shoulders slightly drawn in, his gaze moving across the passing students, the carved walls, the enchanted bags hanging from their shoulders.

Doc slowed.

"You alright?"

Calen looked at him and gave a small smile.

"I feel out of place here."

Doc glanced around the hall. None of the students seemed to notice the crystal in the walls or the silver stitched into their own clothes.

A girl in green robes walked past. Her eyes lingered briefly on Doc's armor before dropping to the worn patch on Calen's sleeve.

She continued without a word.

Calen pulled his arm a little closer to his side.

Fish gave a quiet chuff.

"Me too."

Calen blinked. "Really?"

"Really."

Calen looked around the hall again. Some of the tension left his shoulders.

Ahead, the magister stopped at the foot of a staircase and turned toward them.

"The Archmagister's office is this way."

Calen adjusted his sleeve and followed.

Doc and Ironha went after him, with Fish close behind them.

The staircase curved upward through the Academy.

They passed two more floors before the magister stopped outside a set of dark wooden doors. He knocked once.

“Enter,” a voice called from inside.

The magister opened the door and stepped aside.

Doc entered first.

The office was larger than he expected, with shelves covering most of the walls and tall windows overlooking the district below. A broad desk occupied the far end of the room.

Cassira and Mira sat in front of the desk. The woman who had met them at the gate sat beside them.

All three looked toward the door as Doc entered. Calen and Ironha followed, with Fish padding in behind them.

The older man behind the desk rose.

Doc recognized him from the gate.

“Mister Duckworth,” the man said. “I am Archmagister Kaine.”

Doc inclined his head. “Archmagister.”

Kaine gestured toward the woman beside Cassira.

“This is Battlemage Serin Valen.”

Serin gave Doc a brief nod.

“We saw each other at the gate,” she said. “Though there wasn’t much opportunity for introductions.”

“No,” Doc said. “There wasn’t.”

“Come in,” Kaine said. “All of you.”

Ironha took the remaining chair. Doc and Calen stayed standing, with Fish beside them.

Kaine looked at each of them before speaking.

“First, you have my thanks. Cassira and Mira are both students of this Academy. Their disappearance placed Glasshold in a difficult position, but that is secondary to the fact that they returned alive.”

His attention settled on Calen.

“You followed the men who took them.”

Calen shifted slightly beneath the attention.

“I wasn’t going to leave them.”

Kaine looked from Calen to Doc.

“You both helped bring two of our students home alive. You have my thanks.”

Kaine folded his hands on the desk.

“I understand Investigator Marius has already taken your statement.”

“He has,” Doc said.

“I have no intention of asking the same questions again. I’m not interested in your political loyalties, nor do I need another explanation for why you chose to help.”

“That already makes this conversation easier.”

Kaine’s mouth twitched slightly.

“Good. Then I won’t waste your time revisiting the Crown’s concerns.” He glanced toward the notes on his desk. “I am far more interested in the creature you encountered in the Waste.”

Doc had expected the subject to come up.

“Cassira and Mira told us what they saw at the stronghold,” Kaine continued. “They also said you encountered it before reaching them.”

“We did.”

“Was it already capable of using ice magic?”

“No.”

That answer caught Kaine’s attention.

Doc began with their first encounter in the Waste. Calen filled in what had happened before Doc arrived, describing how quickly the creature had killed bandits and how its wounds began closing afterward.

Kaine interrupted only when something caught his interest. He asked about the creature’s injuries, the way it moved, and whether it had shown any sign of intelligence.

By the time Doc reached their second encounter, Kaine had stopped asking about the fight itself. He was more interested in what had changed between the two.

The creature at the stronghold had been larger, stronger, and capable of abilities it had not possessed during Doc’s first encounter with it.

“It changed that much in little more than a day?” Kaine asked.

“Yes,” Doc said.

“And by the time you encountered it again, it had learned to use magic.”

“It learned more than that,” Calen said. “The first time, it fought like an animal. At the stronghold, it knew what we were going to do.”

Kaine turned his attention toward him.

“You believe it learned from the people it killed.”

“That’s our best guess,” Doc said. “It became stronger every time it consumed someone.”

Serin’s expression tightened, though she remained silent.

Kaine set down his quill.

"I have studied reports of undead throughout the North. Some retain skills they possessed in life. Others change after long exposure to necrotic energy." He paused before looking up again. "I have never heard of one gaining entirely new abilities in a matter of seconds."

"Neither have we."

Kaine studied Doc for a moment.

"And yet you managed to kill it."

"I had a weapon that could hurt it."

"Nothing else could?"

"Not enough to stop it."

Kaine did not ask what kind of weapon he meant.

"Did you fight it alone?"

“No.” Doc glanced toward Calen, then Cassira and Mira. “They kept it occupied and gave me an opening. Fish helped me reach it.”

Fish's ears moved at the sound of her name.

Kaine looked between them, perhaps trying to reconcile what sat before him with the account he had just heard.

"Do you believe there are more creatures like it?"

“I don’t know,” Doc said. “I don’t know where that one came from either.”

Kaine leaned back slightly.

“That may be the most troubling answer.”

Silence settled across the office.

Kaine looked down at his notes once more before setting them aside.

“If you encounter anything similar, I ask that you inform the Academy.”

“I planned to.”

“Good.”

The concern did not leave Kaine’s expression, but he allowed the subject to rest.

“What brought you and your people to Glasshold in the first place?”

“Trade.”

Kaine blinked.

“Trade?”

“We need materials we can’t produce ourselves. Glasshold has them, and we have goods to exchange.”

“And the depot?”

“A place to store shipments and conduct business.”

Kaine glanced briefly toward Mira before continuing.

“Your settlement is in the Waste?”

“Yes.”

“How large is it?”

“Large enough to need regular supplies.”

Doc kept his answer polite but vague. Kaine did not press.

“So you intend to remain in the North.”

“That’s the plan.”

"And what will you do now?"

Doc glanced toward Calen and Ironha.

"Take Mira back to her family. Then return to the depot and continue what we came here to do."

Mira sat a little straighter at the mention of home.

"Trade," Kaine said.

"Trade."

Kaine gave a small nod. His gaze moved toward Mira, then returned to Doc.

“There is one other thing Mira mentioned. She recommended an introductory rune text to you, which you later purchased from the Mages’ Guild.”

“I did.”

“And after reading it, you altered an active rune.”

“Yes.”

Kaine waited.

Doc was not sure what else he expected him to say.

“Had you studied rune magic before coming to Glasshold?” Kaine asked.

“No.”

The Archmagister stared at him for several seconds.

Doc glanced toward Mira, unsure what he had said wrong.

She lowered her eyes, hiding a smile.

““I see,” Kaine said at last.

He considered Doc for another moment.

“If you intend to continue studying magic, I can arrange visitor access to the Academy library.”

Doc looked up. “You can?”

“The restricted collections will remain closed, but the general archives should give you somewhere to begin. They contain introductory texts on runes, magical theory, and the recognized schools of magic.”

Several books, Lux said.

Doc ignored the satisfaction in his voice.

“That would be useful.”

“Then I’ll have the permission prepared.”

“Thank you.”

Kaine inclined his head. “Consider it a small repayment for bringing our students home.”

He closed the folder on his desk.

“I believe I have taken enough of your time. Mira’s family has waited long enough to have her home.”

Doc nodded. “We’ll take her back.”

Mira rose from her chair, and Calen moved aside to give her room.

Kaine stood with them.

“Thank you again, Mister Duckworth. All of you.”

Doc inclined his head before following the others toward the door. Fish padded out beside him.

Serin remained behind with Kaine.

The door closed after them.

Kaine waited until their footsteps faded down the corridor.

Then he looked toward Serin.

"Well?"

"He was careful," Serin said. "Honest, I think. But careful."

"He killed an undead that wiped out an entire stronghold. He altered an active rune after reading an introductory text." Kaine set the notes aside. "A man who had done either would want something for it. He asked for nothing."

Serin said nothing for a moment.

"The creature concerns me more," she said.

Kaine turned toward the window.

"It learned. It grew stronger with every person it killed, and we still do not know where it came from."

"Or whether there are more."

"If there are, no one in this Academy knows how to kill one." Kaine turned back toward his notes. "As for Mister Duckworth, I do not believe he came here looking for trouble."

Serin's gaze remained on the door.

"No. But trouble appears to have found him."

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