What We Do to Survive

The auditorium was crowded in a way I hadn’t seen in years. Only that very first day, when the entire first year class was welcomed to the Academy, had I seen this many seats filled. Even then, there was room to spare, an entire balcony populated only by a sparse group of alumni.

I glanced around furtively, slightly uncomfortable in the crowded room. Intellectually, I knew nothing was going to happen. I could see a half dozen teachers gathered at the front of the room, along with several other staff members spread throughout the crowd. The room practically hummed with power, the collection of high-circle mages throwing off enough ambient mana that even an untrained person could feel it like a palpable pressure on their skin.

To my own senses, trained over years to detect surprise attacks and other faint changes in the mana around me, it was like standing under a waterfall. I’d had to pull the wide bubble I typically used inward, until it formed a shell just inches above the surface of my skin. If I hadn’t done so, I was sure I would have had a horrible headache by the end of the presentation, likely within just a few minutes.

That was clearly an oversight on my end, though I wasn’t sure how to train for such a situation. Gatherings of mages like this were… uncommon, to say the least. It seemed like most of the student body was in attendance, including what looked like all but two of the remaining sixth and seventh years. Combined with the twenty alumni I could faintly sense sitting above me, each of them a great mage at the very least, it was a concentration of power virtually unheard of outside of Elven assemblies and the courts of grand empires.

“First time?” asked Liam from right behind me. I jerked back, spinning around in my seat to stare up at the older boy who had walked up beside me while I’d been looking around. With the level of interference in the room, I hadn’t noticed even a hint of his tightly controlled presence before he announced it. Yes, I decided. This was clearly something I would need to practice. Maybe one of the lectures in the Mana Theory class the two of us shared would have some suggestions.

I took a deep breath to steady my suddenly racing heart and nodded. “Oh, hey. Yeah. After… well, that mess, I decided it might be worth going from now on.”

Liam let out a small laugh and clapped me on the shoulder, “I bet. First time I went, I didn’t really expect much, but the professors that prepare this information do good work. They always have some good stuff for us, it's how I met a bunch of my suppliers and clients in fact.”

I nodded again, not sure how to respond to that. It really seemed like I had been missing out, I wished someone had told me that earlier, but even then, I wasn’t sure I would have listened until recently. Avalon was like that though. The Academy didn’t tend to advertise many of the services it provided, it was considered part of the learning experience for students to figure out what was available and useful for themselves.

“Well, I’m going to go up and sit with some of my yearmates. If you stick around after the presentation, come say hi. I’ve been meaning to introduce you to some of the others.” Seeing the look of confusion on my face, he elaborated. “It’s not often you get this many of us in one room, particularly one where the Academy guarantees safety. People usually linger for a few hours, to talk, make connections, plan, that sort of thing.”

Oh. That was good to know. I probably would have hurriedly left otherwise, hoping to beat the crowds and get somewhere slightly less overwhelming as soon as possible. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

“Of course!” He clapped me on the shoulder again and walked away, taking a seat several rows in front of mine in the spots reserved for upcoming graduates.

After a moment, Miranda leaned in from her spot beside me and murmured, “I didn’t realize you were so close to him. Marc Pierr is a very good friend to have, he’s one of the three almost guaranteed to make it to graduation.”

“Who– oh, yeah. I keep forgetting that's his actual name. Something of a mouthful.” Miranda gave me another unreadable look that I ignored. “He’s… interesting. From what I’ve seen in class, he’s pretty talented. I hope he makes it.”

Miranda turned away, mumbling something I didn’t quite catch under her breath. I could have ordered her to tell me what it was, but with the constant pressure of mana pressing against me, I just couldn’t muster the energy to care much. It was exhausting, stifling almost. I’d read about how certain places, the lairs of ancient dragons, leyline crossroads, and dryad groves to name a few, could be fatal for mundane humans after just a few minutes of exposure. I’d never really understood how that worked, but sitting here? Suddenly the idea felt much more plausible. Looking around again, I could see the occasional first year struggling under the weight, they were seated at the edges of the room where the pressure was least concentrated, but even there it was likely rather painful for the least practiced ones.

Turning back to Miranda, I wanted to ask a few brief questions before we began, but I was cut off when a high, clear note rang through the din of conversation. The hall fell mostly silent, only a lone few voices continuing for a few moments longer before also falling silent. At the front of the room, a short, stocky woman with dark-amber hair tied back in intricate braids who I vaguely recognized as Professor Shatterglass, cleared her throat loudly and let go of the glass sphere she was holding, leaving it floating in the air in front of her. From the loud clicks that echoed through the room when her nails tapped against it, I assumed it was some sort of device meant to amplify her voice.

I was proven correct a moment later when she cleared her throat again and began, her soft voice carrying clearly throughout the large room. “Good morning students, graduates, and faculty. Welcome to this move’s initial orientation, compiled by myself and my colleagues standing behind me. We hope the following hours prove to be educational and provide a good grounding before the portal shifts. If you have any questions after the presentation, I will be available after and you are welcome to seek me or my colleagues out separately for more details. As usual, a general outline of today’s presentation will be available by the end of the day in the central cafeteria and by request at the main office. Now then, let us begin.”

I watched with interest as the short woman withdrew two more glass spheres from the voluminous sleeves of her dark blue robes and tossed them into the air behind her. They gently floated up into the air and began to glow, a soft hum slowly building as the light brightened. After a few seconds, they flashed and seemed to disappear, wide illusionary screens forming in the air where they had been just moments earlier.

The illusions flickered for a moment, colors swirling in a hypnotic jumble before resolving into a very familiar image. Eleven small islands appeared on the screen as seen on a map, arranged in a wide arc with even smaller land masses arrayed around them. My eyes were immediately drawn to the bottom of the image, where a forested, half moon island sat unassumingly. Kyra. Home.

The second illusion cleared up a moment later, showing a zoomed in image of one of the islands. I recognized it immediately, Xeyra, the largest landmass in the island chain and also the nation’s capital. A medium-sized town just outside the capital city was highlighted in pale pink, likely marking the specific location where the portal would be.

“First of all, for those unfamiliar with the region, Xethis is one of the successor states of the old Confederacy of the White Sea. After the organization’s collapse, the former grand chancellor and his entourage fled back to his birthplace and declared themselves the new capital of the Confederacy. After his assasination and some messy succession disputes, his son took up the title of Lawgiver and his descendants have ruled the island chain ever since. Over the centuries, there have been a few attempts by larger nations to absorb Xethis, but a combination of the remote location, several powerful beasts that call the land home, and a moderately impressive tradition of magical studies have ultimately kept the land independent. It doesn’t help that most of the islands are inhospitable to sentient life and the land is horribly infertile, making it a rather unappealing target in the first place.”

She paused for a moment as the images behind her changed, labels in glowing pink letters forming smoothly on the illusionary maps. I couldn’t help but suppress a small frown of annoyance, I knew intellectually that she was completely right, but it still hurt to hear my birth land called not even good enough to bother conquering.

“Now then, I think this is a good place to mention a few warnings.” Several of the smaller islands and two of the larger ones lit up in dark purple. “These islands are considered ‘off limits’ by the natives. The smaller ones are well known to be absolutely filled with monsters, primarily sea creatures that either nest or relax on land. This island in particular,” she highlighted one of the small islands near the edge of the map, “is well known to host a large siren colony. The matriarch has some sort of agreement with the local king, but trade ships are still recommended to avoid the area. We have been asked to do the same, sirens are considered a protected semi-sentient species by the locals. I would be very disappointed to hear about any Avalon members poaching the local sirens. Please remember Avalon’s policies on responsible monster harvesting.”

She paused again and winked in a horribly exaggerated manner. A wave of laughter spread through the crowd and I blinked rapidly as I stared up at the woman. Was she really… yeah. Ok. I shouldn’t have expected anything else from a presentation here. She was basically encouraging everyone interested to go take a look, sirens were pretty valuable after all, though I imagined we were supposed to disguise our Avalon affiliation if we decided to do so.

“Moving on, this is a warning that I expect everyone to take seriously.” Another island lit up, one of the larger ones this time. “This island is home to a nest of Storm dragons, with at least one mated pair of ancients. They also have an understanding with the locals and are considered a neutral party. You are greatly encouraged not to antagonize them. Avalon will not protect you from the consequences of such actions.”

This pronouncement was met with serious nods. Poking dragons tended to end poorly, usually for everyone within several hundred miles. After what had happened at Port Anangala, I had no desire to get anywhere close to any of the monstrously powerful beasts.

“Very good. Well, that is everything on that topic for now. Professor Glassoak,” the willowy dryad standing motionlessly at the back of the stage slowly waved at the crowd, a blank smile on his face, “will go more in depth on the local flora and fauna during his portion of the presentation.

Now, as you can see, we will not be portaling directly into the capital. The wards surrounding the palace are ancient and impressively comprehensive, so we have been offered the use of this town instead. It has a population of roughly four thousand people and primarily caters to the city’s wealthy, many of which have their manors and estates in the area. Additionally, the nation’s own ‘Royal Institute of Spellcraft’ is situated on the edge of the town, just a short walk away from the portal. As per Avalon policy 73.a, stealing members or research from the institute directly is strictly prohibited, but copying techniques and research notes is, as always, greatly encouraged. The institute is well known in the region for its expertise and detailed models of the Light and Recovery spellforms; points will be paid out for any information that may expand our own understanding of these forms.”

She paused again, one of the screens shifting to display several images of people. “Now, before I yield to my colleagues, some people of interest to look out for. On the top right is the institute’s headmaster, Archmage Lightbarer. He is a former Avalon student, though he left after his fourth year so he should not be considered affiliated with the Academy. He is a highly talented, if somewhat narrow, spellcaster, with a particular affinity for light and healing spells. His personal students and bodyguards are well known to utilize some form of rapid regenerative self-enhancements, and he is likely highly proficient with that sort of spellwork as well.

On the left is the local royal mage, Blightcleanser. He claims to be another archmage, but we have not been able to find any evidence of him casting ninth circle spells, so consider that unverified for now. He is rather young for his position, only a few years into his first century, but seems to be doing well enough in his current role. Per the local traditions, he received his current name after ending a minor famine in the islands several decades ago and rose to his current position soon after.”

She continued on for several minutes longer, rapidly cycling through wealthy merchants, nobles, members of the royal family, and several other notable mages that called the islands home. I did my best to pay attention, but it was a struggle. I knew that this sort of thing was important, but it just… wasn’t very interesting to me. Miranda on the other hand seemed thoroughly enthralled by it all, so I would just ask her later if I had any questions.

I shifted slightly in my seat, half my attention focused on a fiendishly tricky internal exercise as I listened to the presentation with half an ear. It was a nasty little thing that should have been rather easy, but was proving to be a challenge even with my current level of skill. I was trying to form a fine, woven mesh, like the sort I often saw in my elves’ natural circulations. It was proving to be surprisingly challenging however, individual threads constantly trying to meld together. It was difficult to keep so many strands of mana so close together without them joining into a single whole.

“... another of the local nobles, Conifer Seatamer, administers the island of Kyra in the name of the crown. As you have likely noticed, he is not an island native, but rather one of the founder’s friends who has been working with the royal family for centuries. His specific origins are somewhat questionable, but it is likely he made his way to the Confederacy sometime after the third dwarvish crusade and decided to stay with the grand chancellor’s family. He is not particularly active among the local nobility and rarely leaves his home island, so you are unlikely to encounter him. Next…”

I clenched my jaw, teeth grinding audibly as I stared unblinkingly at the illusionary image. He was just like I remembered him, sharp features looking down at me with all the arrogance he always carried himself with. He was gorgeous in a way only male elves could be, and I remembered that I had once thought he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Now, looking at him I could only see the ugly monster that lurked under the perfect teeth and sharp jawline. It had been his fault, all his fucking fault. Someday, I looked forward to strangling him with his own entrails. Maybe that would finally wipe that disgusting smirk off his face.

Miranda’s hand on my leg pulled me away from fantasizing about how I would one day make the heartless monster pay for everything he’d done, and I realized that I had been blankly staring at the screen for several minutes. His picture wasn’t even up there any more, replaced by yet another of the dozens of petty nobles and mages that ruled little slices of the islands.

I glanced over at her, somewhat surprised by the gesture, and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’. She looked away quickly, biting her lip before focusing back on the current speaker. I really did need to remember to do something nice for her one of these days. She’d been doing a great job ever since our little talk a few weeks ago, and deserved some sort of reward. Maybe I could ask Rea what she would think was suitable, it was always so hard to know what Miranda might like…

Yes, that seemed like a great idea. I made a mental note to speak to her later tonight and then looked back up at the stage. Professor Shatterglass had just stopped speaking and had waved up one of the other professors, a burly dwarf I didn’t know by name but recognized from several advanced combat classes I’d seen practicing in the fields outside. Maybe this part would be a bit more interesting?