A college town located in London, within the United Kingdom of Great Britain was an apt description for the Clock Tower that governed the Mage's Association. It also functioned as a place of learning, open to both the elitist nobility of ancient lineage and New Agers, whose families were at the most a century old. The latter were regarded with disdain and looked down upon by the former.

The Clock Tower was divided into twelve departments, each a vital cornerstone of modern magecraft, each ruled by one of the Lords: Monarch, twelve corresponding Lords of ancient lineage that held major political power within the magus world.

The Animuspheres held the Department of Astromancy, focused on predicting the future and reading the stars and in that regard, it was no wonder that Marisbury Animusphere had noticed a coming problem and sought to use it to complete his own ambitions.

The buildings for the Departments were spread throughout the city, at certain intervals, forming a college town that hosted over three hundred student dormitories, over a hundred research buildings and campus facilities accompanied by a separate business district to facilitate the needs of various residents.

At the focal, was the Mystile Department, the Department of General Fundamentals under the Lords Trambelio of the Democratic Faction, built similarly to the famous Big Ben itself. The HeadQuarters referred to as the 'Clock Tower' were located at the British Museum, under it to be precise, and stretched from Regent's Park to Westminster.

Alaric calmly took in the Department of General Fundamentals, "It's been a while but nothing's changed, as expected of stingy elitists." He grinned cheekily. He held a bouquet of fresh red roses, wrapped in an ivory coloured sheet, in one hand and fixed his glasses with the other.

It reminded him of an old university, with massive buildings holding multiple wings, open lecture halls and long, harrowing hallways, only it was perfectly preserved in it's original state.

Alaric had spent a significant part of his later life here, studying under the Lords Trambelio and Edelfelt of the Democratic Faction and had gleaned much, adding on a gleam only he could to what they taught served him well.

"Who are the flowers for?" Marisbury asked. He pointed at them and curiously tilted his head, his mannerisms carefully masking the emotionless machine that lay at their core, "My, I don't think you should be caught up with romance..."

Alaric deadpanned, "They're for the first idiot that calls out to me." He disregarded Marisbury and turned to look at the few students around observing him with disdain in their eyes, "If you look at me that intensely, I might have a misunderstanding."

"I believe they think they mask it well."

"..." Alaric was once again reminded of the narcissistic nature of nobility, "Nevermind that, what do you want me to do?" To ensure survival, Chaldea was an absolute necessity. He eyed Marisbury seriously, not a flicker of mischief in his eyes.

Marisbury hummed and closed his eyes, "I want you to... do nothing for now." He joked, amused with how Alaric deflated at his words, "Or rather, there is nothing to do for now. With the funds secured, I now need to convene with the necessary people." He paused, letting his words sink in, "Research for what is needed is already underway, bide your time, build up your strength."

Alaric gave a small nod, he was planning on it.

"Of course if you were an influential member of the nobility, you could do more but alas..."

Alaric shrugged, "That's impossible. Any and all influence I have is with New Agers." The Clock Tower functioned on the basis of ranks, assigning them as merited. The highest ranks like Grand or Brand were monopolised by high class nobility or absolute monsters and Alaric, who didn't show his complete prowess out of caution so as not to be designated for sealing for being too 'dangerous', was meant to possess the lowest rank Frame.

Only, for a New Ager to study and grasp three schools of magecraft, possess the combat prowess a Church Executioner, and wield the Five Great Elements, was an absurd occurrence that earned him the admiration of many a fellow New Agers who viewed it as proof that lineage wasn't all that mattered.

"I wouldn't say a Fes has no influence. I remember there being word of you rejecting quite a few adoption offers. A rank two steps higher than you should possess."

One of the criteria for the Fes rank was high assessment from a large number of students, Alaric undoubtedly had that.

Marisbury's casual remark drew an alarmed gaze from Alaric, conveying just how much he knew about the latter.

"They came to me and acted like I should get down on my knees and thank them for the 'offer'." He answered sarcastically. Families without proper heirs would oftentimes seek out individuals of notable skill and adopt them, "I suppose, in a way, accepting would be more profitable." The other family members could meet unfortunate 'accidents', leaving him the sole heir.

Marisbury shrugged, dropping the conversation, "Regardless, go about as you will, meet my daughter if you wish. Though, be prepared in case we come upon... undesirables that would hinder Chaldea."

"So, you expect me to be a killer at your convenience." 

"You say that as though you would mind." Marisbury closed his eyes and smiled gently.

Alaric responded with a cheeky grin and stared at the grey, cloudy sky, "Very well, Lord Marisbury. I trust you'll know to find me, astromancy can work as GPS."

Bells chimed, announcing the passing of an hour and Marisbury silently took his leave, disappearing into the students going about their days. A sudden commotion drew Alaric's attention and he noticed someone pushing through a crowd of students exiting one of the buildings, some of them grunted, some reminded the world of their heritage as if that exempted them, others recognised just who was pushing through them and pursed their lips.

"Alaric! Alaric! Is that you?!" An elegant, feminine voice with a touch of haughtiness called him out.

Alaric pinched the bridge of his nose and released a sigh, "Nope." He tried to look around for a hiding spot and found none so he resigned himself to his fate.

Kicking up a storm of dust behind her, walking with balanced but hurried steps, dressed in a predominantly blue dress that reached down to her ankles with a white stovepipe collar accented by white shoes and wrist covering gloves. She wore her bright blonde hair in large coils held up by blue ribbons, two of these fell to her sizable breasts while four fell down to her lower back.

Having studied Gemcraft under the Edelfelt matriarch, there was no way for him to avoid coming into contact with a wrestling enthusiast famous as the Forklift Lady and Hunting Dog of the Ring in the wrestling world and the magus infamous for destroying the entire upper floor, consisting of twenty-two rooms, along with the reception of the Norwich Student Dormitory in a scuffle with a certain dark haired oriental magus.

A beautiful young woman with a filled yet sharp face, added to by a pair of deep cognac eyes that clearly reflected her surroundings.

The woman who-

She grinned and wrapped Alaric in a hug, almost lifting a man a whole foot taller than her into the air, "Oom-... While I appreciate the gesture... in more ways than one..." Alaric briefly glanced at her sizable chest, "The next Lady Edelfelt shouldn't be hugging a new ager in public, Luviagelita."

She noticed him glancing at the small crowd staring at her in confusion and tossed one of her coils up, placing her other hand at her hips, and raised her head haughtily, "Hmph! A lady need not concern herself with what useless gawkers who know nothing think of her." Luviagelita purposely declared loud enough for by-standers to hear, shaming them directly.

"Sure." Alaric was aware, she only knew to look down on others because of her status and conducted herself as she deemed proper, sometimes elegant, other times fierce and uncompromising to the point of shamelessness, "This humble lowborn is glad to catch the eye of a noble."

Luviagelita was unamused with his words, not failing to notice the sarcasm in his words, but failing to stop a faint blush from forming across her face, "Very funny..." Her eyes then fell on the flowers in his hand and in the next moment, they were in hers, "Are these for me? Thank you, I appreciate it. I suppose self-study did your elegance well!" She giggled into the palm of her free hand.

"They're no-..." A hint of mischief flashed across Alaric's eyes and his thin smile morphed into a grin, "You deserve them."

The meaning of the action was lost on Luviagelita, she smiled happily, blushing faintly, "It has been a while! We must eat, catch up! Yes, I recently acquired a new restaurant near here!"

"Eh... I'd rather go to a humble family restaurant, they've got better food..." Alaric expected to dissuade her by indirectly insulting her, knowing she had perfectionist tendencies. What he didn't expect was for her to smile even wider and nod multiple times in satisfaction. Thus, he adopted another strategy.

He stomped his foot on the clean brick road and put his hands behind his back again, "Is she here? Ri-..."

"Who cares about that barbaric gorilla? Forget her."

"Who the hell you callin' a damn gorilla?!"

Alaric pursed his lips, he regretted his actions.

In an attempt to add further to his knowledge of Gemcraft than what studying under the Edelfelt allowed, and to help correlate it with his knowledge of curses, Alaric von Dietrich had sought out a teacher in a nation most magi considered backward and barbaric.

The cheapest, and easiest teacher to get along with was a girl younger than himself, whose knowledge had surpassed his own for a time.

The same girl whose boot would have collided with Luviagelita's face had he not moved to intercept it with the palm of his free hand, "Tsk, traitor."

The girl, in presence of whom, Luviagelita reverted back into a bad-tempered, competitive and brash teenager.

x

There's chapter three.