Chapter 117: The Wind Chimes Room

  Stryg focused the purple mana to pool into his cupped hands. A small misshapen grey orb formed between his palms. Calling it an orb was generous. There were bumps and indents all over the discolored orb. Stryg took short strained breaths and tried to move the orb towards the wind chimes. The orb lifted a few inches from his hands and wobbled forward. When it was about a foot away from him the orb began to shake uncontrollably and collapsed into dust.

  “Dammit,” he sighed in frustration.

  “That was better than the last fifteen tries. You’re improving,” Vayu noted. “How are your purple mana reserves? Do you need to rest?”

  “I’m fine. I can keep going,” Stryg shook his head.

  “Lord Noir wasn’t joking when he said you had tested a dark purple on the chrome-probe. Then again, he really isn’t the joking type,” Vayu shrugged. “Continue whenever you’re ready.”

  “Right.”

  Stryg imagined the grey orb within his mind. He glanced at the wind chimes a few feet away and had an idea. He aimed his hands at one of the chimes and imagined the orb forming next to the hollow wooden tube. The grey orb began to blur into existence before collapsing into dust. He frowned.

  “The further you create an illusion the more difficult it is to control. It’s why I told you to create the illusion between your hands, where you have the most control,” Vayu said.

  “So, there’s no easy way to do this,” Stryg sighed.

“Like the best things in life, stable spell casting requires lots of time and effort.”

  “I have both in spades,” Stryg clasped his hands together.

  He would not give up until he collapsed from mental exhaustion or overheating. After another hour of practice, Stryg finally managed a stable misshapen orb. It may not have been pretty to look at and it wobbled as it moved, but it did not shatter.

  Stryg laughed quietly, “Finally.” He hadn’t failed, not completely, not this time.

“Well done. Now, try to navigate your orb through the wind chimes.”

  “Right,” Stryg nodded.

  He waved his arm and directed the small orb towards two chimes. It wobbled as it chugged through the air with a slow current. The further the orb was from him the more it began to shake. He narrowed his eyes and tried to focus on the spell with all his will. The orb’s vibrations did not slow and started to become erratic. The orb bumped into one of the chimes.

Stryg could only watch helplessly as his spell collapsed into purple dust.

  “That was an impressive attempt. And only after less than two hours of practice,” Vayu clapped.

  “Impressive? I barely created an orb and it still collapsed from the slightest touch.” Stryg clasped his hands and tried reforming the illusion.

  “Wait,” Vayu held up a hand. “What do you think is the purpose of this exercise?”

  “To create a stable illusion?”

  “That is partly correct. As purple magi, we wish to be able to spellcast properly like any other mage. In our case, it has to do with illusions. But, why do you think we are in this room, exactly?”

  Stryg glanced around the wind-chime-filled room. “The chimes serve as obstacles to dodge?”

  “The chimes do serve as obstacles, but it is not their main purpose.”

  Vayu placed his hand over the brown magestone embedded on the wooden platform. It glowed a soft bronze before the light extended to the arcane words carved within the platform. The wall consisting of sliding doors slid open, leaving the room open to the vista. Stryg could even see the academy buildings far below.

  The cold wind blew through the open room and circulated all around. The wind chimes shuddered to life and began to sing their soft tune. The still room had become a maze of shiting wind chimes and a blaring song. Stryg winced as his ears were overwhelmed by the sounds.

  Vayu pointed at the side of his head, “Lord Noir told me your ears were a tad sensitive. This room will make it more difficult for you to focus. That’s good. You’ll be able to practice your focus, a required skill for any mage in battle.”

  “I can focus just fine,” Stryg tried covering his ears.

  “Not enough, clearly. I was told you have difficulty with meditation, but that is not a lesson for here or now. Pay close attention,” Vayu raised his index finger.

  A perfect grey orb spun into existence at the tip of his finger and floated down towards one of the chimes. The chime swung back down right at the orb. The illusion shifted away at the last moment and flew past another chime. The orb kept weaving through the moving chimes with ease.

  “The goal isn’t to make your orb fast, nor durable,” Vayu said.

  One of the chimes nicked the orb, it shivered, small purple cracks spanned throughout, and it shattered into a small puff of purple smoke. Instead of turning into dust it reformed itself into a perfect orb and continued to weave through the chimes.

  “The goal of this exercise, of this room, is to create an illusion that can be mended with quick precision. Illusions were never durable. While you could technically strengthen their form it would be minimal and a waste of mana even for an archmage. Instead, we purple magi create illusions that will keep reappearing, overwhelming the enemy with sheer unstoppable numbers.”

  Vayu spread his arms wide, a dozen grey orbs formed around him and shot forth. They maneuvered throughout the room with a rapid cadence, stopping and changing directions in jarring movements, dodging the chimes completely.

  “This is what precision looks like, Stryg. You will learn these techniques, with proper training and enough time. Some things you can’t rush, sometimes the mind just needs time to rest and learn. Do not chastise yourself for being unable to spell cast on your first couple of tries. Understood?”

  Vayu’s words reminded him of Loh. He supposed it made sense, they had both worked together. Stryg nodded, “I understand.”

~~~

  “You’re late, your food is cold,” Kithina said.

“Where have you been?” Callum asked.

  “I just got caught up with some studying,” Stryg sat down next to them in the dining hall.

  He had spent a little too long training with Vayu and had missed their group’s agreed-upon time for lunch.

  “Are you feeling alright? You look tired,” Callum pointed at his face with a fork.

  “I’m fine, just a little hot.” Stryg grabbed the plate of food Kithina had saved for him and began to eat.

  “How are you hot? It’s already autumn,” Kithina shook her head. “You can have my ice cream, it’ll help,” she pushed her plate over.

  “Thanks, Kitty,” Stryg’s lips curled.

  Kithina always had a sharp tongue with him, but he knew she had his back and that was more than enough for him.

  “It’s Kithina… You know what? Whatever,” she took a sip of her lemonade.

“Oh, this is new. What’s with the change of attitude?” Callum grinned.

  “It’s not every day I get to see a Goldelm get knocked out. For once, I appreciate Stryg’s savage bluntness,” Kithina smiled.

  “I was actually referring to Stryg,” Callum said. “You seem nicer than usual.”

“...You’re my friends, what more is there to say?” Stryg shrugged.

  “What’s this, the sylvan goblin has a heart after all?” Nora asked.

  Stryg glanced up. Nora, Kegrog, and Clypeus stood with their own plates of food. They sat down next to Stryg’s group.

  “And what brings you three to our humble abode?” Callum raised an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t want to be the third wheel in a table with just these two,” Kegrog pointed his thumb at Nora and Clypeus.

  Kithina had to scoot over to accommodate Kegrog’s large form.

“I’m just trying to enjoy lunch with Cly,” Nora hooked arms with her fiancé.

  “I came to see how my friend, Stryg, was doing. Will that be a problem, Veres?” Clypeus asked.

  “Not at all. I’m always happy to have a Gale with us,” Callum smiled broadly.

  “Knock it off, Cly, we’re trying to have lunch here, not a passive aggressive standoff,” Nora pushed his shoulder.

  “Of course. Despite our differences in opinion, Callum is still a Veres. I will respect him as such,” Clypeus bowed his head.

  “It is an honor to have you sit with us,” Callum bowed in return.

“So, how are you feeling after whooping that stuck-up Freya?” Nora asked excitedly.

  “Huh? Stuck-up?” Stryg tilted his head.

  “Oh, right you weren’t there for that part. Freya was talking a bunch of smack at Kithina.” Nora smirked, “And then Callum kissed her.”

  “You kissed Kitty?” Stryg asked.

“No, he kissed Freya,” Nora said.

  “Oh, she is quite pretty,” Stryg nodded in understanding.

“Are you implying I’m not?” Kithina gripped her fork tightly.

  Stryg stared at her face, “Would you like to know my opinion?”

“Careful, Stryg, she might just stab you,” Clypeus tried holding back his laughter.

  Callum interrupted, “I only wanted to avoid angering Freya. I’ve known her for a long time and if there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s that she holds grudges.”

  “I heard she woke up screaming in the infirmary,” Kegrog said.

“I wish I had seen that,” Kithina beamed.

  “I mean to be fair, no one in our class can actually beat Stryg in a spar,” Callum winced at the memory of Stryg attacking his back over and over.

  “Cly could take him,” Nora objected.

  “With my swords, sure. But, I’d never want to fight Stryg in hand-to-hand combat. Or technically claw-to-hand combat,” Clypeus admitted.

  “But, you know plenty of martial arts,” Nora pressed.

  “Which doesn’t mean a lot when you’ve got a guy who can literally break my bones with just his grip,” Clypeus said.

  Stryg found himself smiling. There was at least one thing he could count on, his body. “And yet you still manage to hold your own against me. It’s those blades.”

  “That’s a swordmaster for you,” Callum stared pointedly at the gladii hanging from Clypeus’ sheaths.

  “I’ll get the hang of your attacks eventually. Then it won’t matter how many swords you’ve got,” Stryg said.

  “Well, if you want, you can always join me in my sword training,” Clypeus said.

“What? Seriously?” Callum choked on his food.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Kithina patted Callum’s back.

  “Gale sword training is renowned throughout the Realm. Aristocrats from the most prestigious Houses try to study under them and are turned away. Yet, you’re offering Stryg training just like that?” Callum said in shock.

  “Well, it wouldn’t really be proper training. I’ll just give him a few pointers so he can learn how to fight against swords,” Clypeus said.

  “Still, that’s…”

  “Thank you,” Stryg clenched his fist over his heart. “Swords aren’t my weapon of choice, but I’ll take whatever knowledge I can get if it means beating you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Clypeus smirked.

“Speaking about seeing, look who it is,” Kegrog gestured over to his left.

  Freya stood at the edge of the dining hall. Her head whipped back and forth as she scanned the crowd of tables. She spotted their table and marched her way over.

  “Here she comes,” Kithina muttered under her breath.

  Stryg noticed Freya’s gait was off. Her legs wobbled a tad with each step. It seemed the doctor’s healing magic wasn’t enough to deal with her concussion.

  “Hey, Freya. How do you feel?” Callum asked.

  Freya ignored him and pointed her finger straight at Stryg, “I admit I lost this last fight. I let my anger get ahead of me and I rushed in like a fool. That was on me. Don’t think for a second that you won for any other reason, I’m the one who made a mistake. It won’t happen again. I am a Goldelm and I promise you I will not lose next time.”

  “Have you seen Oginum before?” Stryg asked between bites of food.

“What?” Freya frowned.

  “It’s this magical hammer made b-”

“I know what Oginum is!”

  “Oh, so have you seen it before?”

“Of course, I’ve seen it. It’s my father’s weapon,” Freya rolled her eyes.

  “So, what’s it like? Is it really as strong as the stories say?”

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m talking about our sparring match.”

  “So, it isn’t that strong, huh? I figured as much,” Stryg sighed with disappointment.

“What rubbish are you saying? Oginum is the greatest weapon in all the Realm, you halfwit!”

  “It’s hard to take the word of a weakling who claims to be strong seriously. Maybe I should just check the library,” Stryg muttered.

  Freya’s face grew beet red, her lips twisted in a snarl, “Just you wait until we have an actual magic duel. I’ll see you then, imbecile.”

  Freya spun around and walked away.

“What a bitch,” Kithina spat.

  “Pretty hot though,” Kegrog added.

“Kegrog,” Nora frowned.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t attack her right then and there, after she insulted you like that, Stryg,” Clypeus said.

  “I find fighting is not always the answer,” Stryg went back to eating.

“Am I the only one who thinks he just wanted to finish his food first?” Callum asked.

  “Oh, definitely,” Kithina said.

“No doubt, no doubt,” Nora nodded.

  “He’s not going to hold back in their next duel, right?” Callum asked.

“Right,” the group said in unison.

  Stryg kept eating.