Closed Galsterei, Beforged

[Lycus]

Lycus​

Professor of Smoke

✦ Galsterei, Beforged ✦​

Spring 16th, 125

“Lycus, are you familiar with our young ‘Paragon Candidate’ - the Pendragon boy?” asked the Department Head.

Lycus looked up from his books and glyphs; much to read, much to catch up on. Five hundred years he’d lost since the toppling of his Memorandum. The Krakon’s slitted eyes leered, confusion splayed upon his brow between them. “I can’t say I have. A /Paragon Candidate/? How rare.”

“Indeed,” the Department Head said. “Have you time in your schedule to mentor him; his situation is rather dire - all that raw potential, yet with flagrant, searing youth.”

“What’s his Potential?” Lycus asked.

The man rubbed his fingers together, expression flat as he looked down at his hands. “Nothing /too/ unusual. Just, ah, the Sixth Order, Lycus. Fifth is the height of his Galdr for the each of them.”

Lycus visibly bristled, from wings to the tip of his tail. The Sixth Order? Unheard of for someone with unnurtured talent. Pah, so young! “You could have led with that. Ahh — I will prepare a syllabus, and as for availability… I will pen a timeslot and send one of the Little Masters,” said Lycus, scathing his talons together. “A ‘Paragon Candidate’? The Sixth Order, no less? This ought to be interesting.”

More than his own desire to see firsthand what a Paragon Candidate could be, Lycus needed to prove himself to the Department Head that he could instruct a special interest. It had not been long since his return, and he felt vindicated to be given such an important task.

. . .

✦ The Next Day… ✦​

Spring 17th, 125

Earlier when the day was nascent and blue, a Familiar belonging to one of Lycus’ associates had sought Luke. An eight-winged, floating eye with talons. “Luke,” it chirped, fluttering. “Letter for Luke.”

The letter was stamped with Lycus’ personal seal: the head of a dragon in a vibrant, blue wax.

Salutations Luke Pendragon, Candidate of Paragon;

You are hereby summonsed for the purpose of personal mentorship by Professor Cæruleus to the Galsterei Training Grounds A 1, on the day, at the time of noon.

Following review of your talents, you will conduct a practical exercise appropriately tailored to your needs and abilities. Please conserve this day your Metaphor, your patience, and your focus.

- Lycus Cæruleus Maximus, Professor of Smoke

Lycus sat perched upon an arch of sandstone within the Galsterei Training Ground of Bastion, woven against every Galdr Cantrip. Twenty feet tall. Staircases wound all around him, a dizzying maze of enchanted stone. Exalted Conjurations were nestled in the alcoves; trapped corridors, and tools for training.

Above was the open sky. Around the arena at the center was a channel filled with water, several bridges leading across the compound. Scattered rocks, scorchmarks, and small pools upon hydrophobic stone made a mess of the place while Peripheries of Exodii still lingering in the air like magical hazards.

Talons squeezed upon the stone as Luke arrived, the enormous Krakon leaning down to greet him. Lycus could easily be misconstrued as a Dragon, and he often was by the students ill-versed in the workings of Lacon who weren’t themselves mystics.

The Krakon’s voice was deep yet airy, neon-blue short-feathered wings draped down over his shoulders and flanks. “Luke Pendragon, it is an honor. Know I am Lycus Cæruleus Maximus, Professor of Smoke— please, simply refer to me as 'Professor Lycus'— here I am now to aid you in realizing your potential.

Understand that you may be injured during the course of instruction, and death is always a slight possibility when dealing in such dangerous heights as Fifth Order Arcana.”​

After a brief pause to let Luke answer, Lycus continued, waiting for Luke to answer each question before he began with the next:

“Begin by telling me about yourself; how do you understand the extent of your abilities?”

“Is your Other wearing you ragged, quiet, or wiring you hot?”

“How long ago were you given your last Arcane Initiation?”

“When was the last time you used your Arcana, and to what extent? Have you any symptoms of Mageburn?”​

689

 

[Luke]

────── Luke Pendragon ──────

​

Freedom. It had been nice while it lasted. He had lived in a remote desert village for most of his life and hadn’t had any ties to the Academy. He’d been initiated by mages in his father’s employ as part of a thousand year long plot to develop a paragon candidate with his genetics. Many had died, so many but at last Sire had a viable candidate.

And then? Luke had run away from home. He knew nothing of the plot and had willingly sought out new galdr… so he also didn’t think his mom was trying to kill him off when she introduced him to new mages. He travelled Arcanis a bit and had even gone to Jian for a time and yet Sire always had an alithean agent keep an eye on him.

Towards the beginning of Spring, Luke had gone with a stranger in Jian to Caligony to witness a null’s ascension. And when that was done, he was spit out at Bastion Academy. It had probably been a request by his father and though it pained Luke to align himself with the academy he didn’t have much of a choice. He had learned what kind of crowd his father was apart of and saying no was probably not a good idea.

Luke had arrived at the Academy on the 8th and it had been like his arrival had been expected. He’d been given a room to stay in and had been treated fairly well, all things considered. He’d been given books to read and people had come to teach him about life at Bastion, etc. He hadn’t actually been asked to do anything until the 17th when he received a letter from Lycus.

Luke made his way into the training grounds dressed in a simple tshirt and pants. He still looked annoyed to be here, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as his first day. He looked up at the dragon, or whatever it was that was looking down at him. Just a few short years ago he would have been incredibly mystified by the creature, but after having been in Jian for a while dragons had lost some of their shock factor.

Still, he hadn’t seen one that looked quite so exquisitely blue and Luke would have to be stupid to be rude to something that could squash him like a bug. Years of mercenary work had taught him that arcane potential didn’t always make up for being a fragile bag of meat.

“The honor is mine, Professor Lycus” Luke started. He tried to remember what Smoke meant. He remembered something about poetics, which he also knew little about, aside from turning into elements.

“I understand that training here will be extra dangerous. That was made clear to me since day one.” Probably why he was keen on not being here.

“I have been doing mercenary work for several years now, travelling between Jian and Arcanis to take whatever interesting jobs come up. Most of my jobs have not required me to use my magic to its fullest extent. I almost exclusively use fulgur, though I am able to use all the galdr at about the same level.”

“My Other is quiet, I guess?” he didn’t know how to answer that.

“My last initiation was around a decade ago at 19.”

He had to think about the last question. “I use it often. The most recent was probably this morning when I got a little hot and conjured a breeze in my room. Or maybe it was when I collected all the sand in my clothes and tossed it out the window… simple spells usually. I haven’t felt mageburn for a very long time.”

If he was given a chance to ask a question he’d ask, “what’s the intended outcome of this mentorship? I don’t know much about this whole paragon thing that people have talked to me about. It sounds awfully dangerous and while I welcome more powerful abilities… I haven’t found the need to get stronger in years. It feels like I’m meant to be part of an experiment but if it fails… I die.” He wanted to say that if he died nobody would care, which was how he felt and might even be true. Though it probably benefited the Academy and alitheia if he was one they could keep under their control.


10 - .04 apprentice zephyr -.04 apprentice terra

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