Chapter Text
The breeze dishevelled Adam's hair as soon as he leaned over the low stone railing. He had to use one hand to keep the longer strands out of his eyes, blinking down at the long line of ships as he breathed in the salty air.
There were some smaller boats to the side of the harbour, but they didn't interest him much. His focus was on those vessels with at least three masts, which he almost thought he could hear groaning under the onslaught of the wind. That was probably just his imagination, though.
It wasn't as though Adam was looking for anything specific, or at least that's what he told himself, even as he caught his own eyes lingering on the flags flying from the ships. Vessels filled the harbour, the local ones inhabiting one side, the ones flying the flags of other kingdoms the other. Many of them, Adam recognised after his almost two years of living in the city. They were merchant vessels, mostly. But every now and then, a vessel docked in the harbour that carried envoys from other kingdoms.
While Montfell was not the closest harbour to the King's palace, it was still an important one. The Academy building which loomed over the city, and the shadow of which Adam could even now feel on his back, certainly warranted the hustle and bustle.
With a sigh, Adam stepped back from the railing that framed every street in the city. There must have been too many accidents on the winding, sloped streets, for the city council to decide to spend money on securing them. Most likely, someone important had died that way. The death of a few peasants certainly wouldn't have justified such an expense in the eyes of the council, Adam thought, his mouth tightening to a thin line.
With a last sweep of his eyes over the ships, Adam turned away, and strolled further down the street. It was solid rock, like every other street in the city, and Adam wondered if he could allow himself to buy new shoes over the summer. His current ones were wearing a little thin, which wouldn't have been a problem in his village, where there was nothing but dirt roads and grasslands to pave the way. But the black rock of Montfell was much harder to walk on, and Adam suspected that with his current shoes, his feet might get quite toasty by the time the next summer rolled around, cool breeze or no.
Adam sighed, then plastered a smile on his face as he entered the bookshop at the end of the street. It was nestled between a residential building and the rock of the cliff the whole city was built on and against.
Well, not actually the whole city. The harbour certainly wasn't made of stone, or rowing boats would have had a hard time getting onto the shore.
And with that, Adam was thinking of the ships again. There had been so many flags, a part of him whispered, maybe he had simply overlooked the one he had been looking for?
I wasn't looking for anything, he told himself once again as he pushed open the bookshop's door, making the bell above it jingle.
"Good afternoon," Samandriel said, as cheerful as ever.
"Hi Sam," Adam forced the nickname over his lips. He didn't want to be rude to the guy by insisting on using his full name, even if the name Sam left a bad taste in his mouth. "How are the books?"
Samandriel's smile widened a little at the old joke. "Silent as ever, I'm happy to report. Are you here for-"
Someone cleared their throat quite loudly next to them, making Adam and Samandriel both turn their heads. The woman with the painfully fake smile on her face was unfortunately familiar to both of them, as she was the owner of the bookshop.
"Mrs. Shurley! Is everything alright with your throat?" Adam asked with faux concern.
"My throat is in prime condition," she said dryly. "Now I would appreciate it if you would not bother our paying customers with your idle prattle."
There were no other customers as far as Adam could see, and even if some had been hiding between the stacks, he was sure that they would have survived two people speaking at a perfectly decent volume.
He had to fight hard to keep the smile on his face, but his years of practice paid off. "Of course, Mrs. Shurley. I'm only here to pick up a book for Professor Shurley."
She sniffed, and turned away, though Adam could still feel her glare on him even as he turned back to Samandriel. The latter winced and mouthed 'sorry', then ducked behind the counter to retrieve something.
It wasn't Samandriel's fault, so there was nothing for him to apologize for. Mrs. Shurley simply didn't like Adam. There didn't seem to be a particular reason, except perhaps that she always seemed to suspect that he didn't have the money to pay for the books he came for.
The fact that he did always carry enough money never seemed to assuage said suspicions.
Adam could even understand it, somewhat. He came from a village full of farmers, after all, and he could hardly even afford new shoes. Unlike most of the students at the academy, he couldn't afford to buy clothes of the latest fashion, or fill his dorm room with rows and rows of books and trinkets. He only got what he needed for his studies.
That didn't make him a thief, though. And in the privacy of his mind, he allowed himself to call Mrs. Shurley a stuck-up asshole.
"Here you go," Samandriel said as he put a book wrapped in red cloth onto the counter. "This is the delivery for Professor Shurley."
"Thanks, Sam. That's… how much again?" Adam pulled out the money Professor Shurley had given him.
"One silver."
Adam held back a sigh. With that low a price, he had thought that Professor Shurley had given him the exact sum he needed for a change. But no, he had been given two silver, and only needed one.
"Thank you for your purchase," Samandriel said cheerfully. "Pleasure doing business with you."
Adam huffed out a laugh, and Samandriel winked at him. It more than made up for the evil looks Adam knew Mrs. Shurley was still giving him, even if he was pointedly not looking at her.
Samandriel was nice, not to mention a handsome fellow. Adam had overheard some girls from the academy talking about him, psyching one of them up to ask Samandriel out. The man wasn't that much older than the students, maybe 25 at most. It made sense that there would be some interest, especially since every student would meet him at some point. This was the only bookshop in the city, and the only place for miles to get any books on magic.
Adam rubbed the last silver coin between his fingers as he left the shop, wondering what he should do with it. He could have tried returning it to Professor Shurley, though considering the last two dozen or so times he had tried returning money, it likely wouldn't be successful. Professor Shurley always feigned surprise when Adam mentioned that he had given him too much money for the errand, and insisted on Adam keeping the change. He would say, with a twinkle in his eyes, that it was his own price to pay for not being able to count correctly, and that perhaps one day, he would learn his lesson.
Stuffing one of his hands into the pocket of his coat while the other held the book, Adam started walking up the street. It was a mild February, but still far too cold to walk around without winter clothes, the wind still biting. There would still be frost and snow in Winnedom, Adam thought, turning his head to look up the cliff. He wondered for a moment if his mom had already planted onions in their small garden.
She mostly kept herbs, but onions and garlic could be helpful remedies as well. Besides, he heard her say in his head, and he could just see her standing at the table in their hut, grinding some herbs, they make every meal tastier. And eating a hearty meal is often the best remedy.
Lost in the memory, Adam almost walked by the candy shop on the corner of the street.
Almost.
Instead he stopped in front of it, studying the display. There were all sorts of colourful candy, boasting different tastes. It made Adam's mouth water, which almost convinced him to keep walking. Temptation was a powerful thing, and could be ruinous.
And yet, he heard his mom's voice, if you never let have yourself any fun, you'll become like the Honourable Elkins, with a permanent scowl and deep frown lines on your face. She always poked a particular spot on his forehead when she said it, and Adam instinctively reached up to rub the spot.
When he noticed, he huffed at himself, and entered the candy shop.
Inside, it was warm, almost like in the bakery around the corner. It always smelled sweet and enticing too. The girl behind the counter greeted him, though not by name. She was the owner's daughter, Adam knew from overhearing some of the conversations as he had previously walked around the shop.
There was so much variety that Adam could barely choose, but in the end he decided on buying some red candy, allegedly tasting of strawberries and raspberries. It came in a pretty little box, and as Adam put it on the counter, the girl — Lily, the thought — smiled at him.
"A present for someone special?" she asked cheekily.
"You could say that." Adam put the silver down on the counter.
Lily hummed, and, very slowly, retrieved his change. "And who could have caught the eye of a magician such as yourself?"
Adam smiled. "Not a magician," he said, then added: "yet."
She shrugged. "You can do magic. That's a magician to me." Finally, she pushed the few copper coins of change over to him.
"Don't let the professors hear you," Adam said as he put the money away.
Lily hummed, and propped her chin on her hands, her elbows on the counter. "Seriously though. Who is it for?"
Adam grinned. "The most special lady in the whole wide world," he said, taking the box and turning to leave.
As he stepped outside, he tried to imagine his mom's face when she would see the box. He would have it sent through the academy's postal service, which was thankfully free for the students — at least as long as the location of the destination was sufficiently precise, and wasn't protected by magical means.
Fortunately, Adam's mom wasn't trained in warding. Not that it would have been necessary to ward a simple healer's hut, anyway. The only magical thing in their home was the shrine devoted to Lady Raphael. Well, and Adam's mom herself, of course.
Walking up the steep slope of the next street, Adam passed the apothecary. For a moment, he regretted getting candy instead of herbs, which would actually be useful for his mom.
Then again, didn't she always tell him that she could grow everything she needed herself? Candies, on the other hand, needed extremely hot ovens to make, which were simply not available in Winnedom. So the candy was better, after all.
Adam continued walking, thankful when he arrived at the market. It was bustling as always, and difficult to get through, but at least it was level and not sloping up the cliff, so it gave his legs a bit of reprieve.
Adam's eyes flicked up towards the academy again. It wasn't quite a castle, but close enough. A really big manor, maybe, with rooms for hundreds of students. It was also built from the same black stone as the cliff, giving the impression that it had been carved out of, rather than built on it.
Why anyone had decided to build a city in such a place, Adam had no idea. Travelling the city was hard work on foot, and exceedingly dangerous with a cart or, the Lady forbid, a horse. In fact, most horses refused to set foot on the black rock, especially the parts that were so steep as to be neck-breaking if you tumbled down. (Especially if you were a horse.)
There had been magic involved in the building of the city, of course, as the chancellor of the academy never tired to boast. If it had been built purely by human hands — if workers had needed to carve those streets out of the cliffs manually — it could easily have taken decades. Instead, the city had been built within a few short months. Or rather, the foundation of the city and the academy had been. The chancellor rarely spoke of anything else.
To the magicians, who towered over the city as if they were its sovereigns, the common people didn't seem to hold much importance.
The door to Professor Shurley's study was open, as always, but Adam still knocked on the frame, not wanting to simply burst in. The professor jerked up from whatever he had been reading, then blinked rapidly at Adam, adjusting his glasses.
"Ah, Mr. Milligan. Come in, come in." His eyes flicked towards his visitors' chairs, which were, as always, laden with books and scrolls. "Erm, just put those away, or no, let me…"
"It's alright," Adam said, holding up a hand to stop the professor, who had already gotten out of his chair. "I'm only here to deliver your book, professor. I won't be long."
Professor Shurley hesitated, but then nodded. He was one of the younger professors, with barely any grey among his black hair. Incidentally, he was also the kindest of the professors. At least to Adam.
As Adam handed over the book, Professor Shurley reached for it eagerly. Despite his obvious excitement, though, he unwrapped it slowly, carefully. Perhaps even reverently.
When he finally looked at the binding, he was beaming.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked, holding the book up for Adam to see.
Adam hadn't looked under the wrapping before, so the binding was new to him. Still, he recognised the symbol on the front.
"Is that… the sign from Winnedom?" he said, perplexed.
Professor Shurley smiled. "Indeed. The one you showed me — and, as I heard, you showed every other traveller who came to the village."
Adam felt his ears start to burn. He had perhaps been a bit overeager after discovering the remains of what might have once been a stone wall. Over some of the moss-covered stone, a sign had been carved which neither Adam nor anyone else in the village had been familiar with. It had been somewhat withered by weather and age, but Adam had mostly been able to understand which parts had been intended carvings, and which cracks had come later.
Adam had copied the symbol onto one of the chalk boards his mother used to teach the children their letters and numbers, and had started showing it to every visitor. He had even, after much hesitation, shown it to his father. John hadn't been any help, of course, but it had been worth a shot.
"Have you been able to find out anything on what it means yet?" Professor Shurley asked casually while opening the book and studying the first page.
"No." Adam had thought that maybe if he read enough of the books in the academy's library, or asked enough of the professors, he would eventually figure it out. And of course he hadn't even come close to reading all of the books in the extensive library over the last one and a half years. It probably wouldn't have been possible to do so even if he hadn't been saddled with school work. But still, it was a bit disheartening that nothing he had seen so far in his studies had even come close to being a match.
However, after learning as much about languages and history as he had, he had at least come to one, admittedly tentative, conclusion.
"By now I think that it might not be a rune at all, but an emblem. Maybe a coat of arms."
Professor Shurley nodded. "I believe so too. Hopefully, this book will shed some more light on it."
"But Professor…" Adam trailed off, biting his lip.
"Yes? Do you have some doubts?" Professor Shurley looked up at him with the same patience he always wore in the classroom. He was a man who could not be shaken by yelling, or questions which showed that the one who had asked them had obviously not been listening to his lesson.
For that, Adam greatly respected him. He might not have been the most capable at magic among the professor, but certainly the best at teaching.
"It's only… that book doesn't seem very old. And it cost so little. How could it hold an answer about ruins that might be hundreds of years old?"
The corners of Professor Shurley's mouth ticked upwards for just a moment. Then he put the book down onto his desk, and looked at Adam very seriously.
He was going to make Adam answer his own question. Adam held back a sigh.
"It really was very cheap, wasn't it? And the book is in very good condition — in fact, you might even say that it looks brand-new." Professor Shurley cocked his head. "What does that tell you?"
"If it holds some information about times long gone by, but is rather new, then it must be a copy or translation of some older work."
Professor Shurley nodded. Of course. Adam could have kicked himself for asking such a stupid question.
"Indeed. This is a transcription made for me by the monks at a particular abbey."
Adam frowned. That begged the question of why the price had been so low. Usually, books copied by hand were rather expensive. Unless it had been done by magical means, though that was a very complicated spell, and could be ruinous to the original work. All in all, it might have been even more expensive than a hand-made copy.
Could it be that the silver coin he had paid at the bookshop had only been the price of shipping? This would have meant that the monks had either done all this work as a gesture of friendship, or that someone else had paid them. Adam had no idea which one of the two was more likely, considering he knew very little of his professor's life outside of the academy.
"Well?" Professor Shurley asked. "Do you have another question?"
Adam hesitated. "Actually… yes, one. I've been meaning to ask for a while, but wasn't sure if it might be considered impolite."
Professor Shurley's eyebrows shot up. He didn't seem to have expected that. "Well, ask away," he said, gesturing with his hand.
"Mrs. Shurley from the bookshop," Adam said, and he faltered a little when Professor Shurley cringed. But the need to know burned brighter in that moment than the sting of a social faux-pas. "Is she perhaps…"
Sighing, Professor Shurley held up a hand to stop him. "Please don't say anything which may embarrass us both. You're not the first to ask, you know. Honestly, I'm surprised you waited so long, considering I see you more often than most other students."
That was true. From the first year on, Adam had enrolled in as many language and history courses as he had been able to cram into his schedule. As it turned out, that meant he had a lot of classes with the best history teacher of the academy. Seeing as they had already known each other at that point, it hadn't been surprising that Professor Shurley asked Adam to run errands for him every now and then. It was probably better than asking one of the students of noble descent, who would likely have only scoffed at the notion of running around the city to retrieve a book.
Many students at the academy were used to having servants for such things. And out of those, some managed to convince — with financial compensation or not — some of the commoners to act quite like servants.
One of the first rules they had been taught at the academy was that every magician was an equal among his peers. Apparently, though, most of the students hadn't quite learned that rule yet.
Then again, neither had a lot of the professors.
Professor Shurley rubbed his temples. "Naomi," he said, "or rather, Mrs. Shurley from the bookshop, is my aunt. We are not related by blood, as she married my uncle Zachariah, and you would probably do well not to mention me too often, as she is not very fond of me. Then again, neither I am very fond of her."
He looked up at Adam, looking rather tired. "Does that answer your question?"
"Yes. I apologize, I didn't mean to pry. Though…"
"Hm?"
"Oh, no, nothing." Adam felt himself blush. It was too impudent a question, after all.
Professor Shurley shook his head, a small smile on his lips again. "Ah, you would like to know how old my aunt was when she married my uncle, don't you? Well, as far as I know, she had already celebrated her 29th birthday at least once. Now, if you would like to know how often she has already celebrated it in total, you would need to ask her directly. I advise against it though."
Adam blinked. He hadn't considered that Mrs. Shurley might be older than Professor Shurley. Or had she simply married his uncle very late in his life?
"Well." Professor Shurley looked for a moment at the grandfather clock standing behind Adam. "You should probably run along, it's almost time for dinner. And before that, I believe your hallway is scheduled for inspection today?"
"Yes." Adam had already cleaned and tidied up before he had left to get the book, but it couldn't hurt to do a bit more. Besides, it wasn't advisable to be late for inspection. "Thank you, professor. And…" He trailed off, his eyes on the book with the familiar, and yet mysterious, symbol.
Professor Shurley smiled. "If I find out anything more, I will let you know."
Once back in his dorm room, Adam cleaned his shoes, even though they had barely gotten even any dust on them. Then he fiddled with his writing utensils on the desk, trying to get them perfectly aligned. Then he checked that his books were ordered alphabetically, which took about five seconds, seeing as there were only four books on the shelves.
Finally, Adam ran out of things to do, so he just stood there, facing the door and waiting. He avoided fiddling with the shrine in the corner, and he was afraid that if he sat down on the bed, he would get written up for it.
After what felt like a thousand years and was probably closer to five minutes, the door opened — without knocking, as always — and in strolled Professor Styne and Ruby Masters, wearing twin expressions of pride and disdain (also as always).
"Mr. Milligan," Professor Styne said with that fake smile of his that didn't reach his cold, hard eyes. "Idling about, I see. Do you think that because the mid-term exams are over, you can slack off in your studies?"
Adam gave him his best, most brilliant smile. "I apologize for seeming idle, sir. Only, I was just reciting the spell for the Light of Mercy in my head."
"Did you now?" Ruby asked, raising an eyebrow. She was a third-year student and had, since the last semester, been responsible for inspections in Adam's hallway together with Professor Styne.
Adam wasn't sure if she was better or worse than Alastair, who had been responsible the year before. Really, he thought, they were equally bad in different ways.
"Would you like for me to recite it?" Adam asked sweetly.
He did know the incantation. And the hand movements. And everything else there was to know about the light spell, really. He had never managed to actually conjure a light, of course, since it was one of the most complex spells in existence and there were allegedly even some fully certified magicians who weren't able to execute it.
Adam still had some time before that. In half a year, if all went well, he would officially become an apprentice. After that, there was one more year of studying, then one year of actual apprenticeship under a magician, before he could even consider taking the exams for becoming a magician himself.
Most apprenticeships lasted at least three years, it was said, and some longer. Only very rarely did someone pass the exam after only one year.
So there was time for Adam to train the spell. Even if it stung that he wasn't already able to do it.
"No need," Professor Styne said to his question, then began stalking around the room. He opened dresser drawers, and looked behind the bookshelf. Then he instructed Ruby to check under the bed.
There wasn't anything there, not even so much as a dust bunny. Adam wasn't technically responsible for cleaning — the academy had staff for that — but he knew that if there was even just the hint of dirt anywhere to be seen, he would get written up for it.
When the professor and his black-haired lackey didn't find anything to object about, they seemed put out. Adam held back a grin.
"I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose," Professor Styne said dryly. "It was inevitable that you would eventually learn how to keep the space tidy. Peasants are good at that, after all."
Behind him, Ruby grinned.
"We will see how you will fare with your new roommate," Professor Styne continued.
"Excuse me?" Adam asked.
Professor Styne gave him a look. "Your new roommate. He is scheduled to arrive tomorrow, if I'm not mistaken."
"Yes, tomorrow," Ruby confirmed, though it sounded more like an echo. "A merchant's son, I believe."
"Ah." Professor Styne made a face. "Nouveau riche."
Adam hadn't known that expression before coming to the academy, but by now he had heard it so often that it was etched in his brain. It was what rich people of noble blood used to insult other rich people.
At least that meant that Adam's new roommate wouldn't be a nobleman. Whether that meant he didn't look down on 'peasants', as Professor Styne had so eloquently put it, was anyone's guess.
Adam wasn't very hungry, but he still made himself go down to the dining hall for dinner. Even if it was a mostly silent affair for him, since he didn't have any friends to speak of, it wasn't in his nature to go hungry on purpose.
His village had gone through bad harvests before, and he had no intention of simulating that experience unnecessarily. Besides, with the cooks being used to cooking for the demanding palette of the children of barons and dukes and what-not, the food was just too good to pass up.
Adam's mom had joked before that he would get spoiled, and would find his own mother's cooking repulsive before long. That hadn't turned out to be true yet though, and Adam didn't think that it ever would.
Besides, as Adam always told her, when he was home, he cooked more often than she did.
So Adam spooned up his soup, and then dug into a chicken leg and baked potatoes. Not for the first time, he wished that he had a book with him to read. It was easier to ignore the looks and whispers of other people when you had your nose in a good book. Unfortunately, students were forbidden from bringing books to the dining hall, since they might get dirty.
When Adam looked up at the professors' table, he noticed that Professor Shurley had a book on his lap. He bit back a grin as he noticed the dirty looks the other professors were giving the man.
Apparently, the rule really did only apply for students, or else the chancellor would have long since reprimanded Professor Shurley.
Adam couldn't see if the book he had was the one from earlier, but he would have bet quite a lot on it. (Maybe not money, because he did still really need those new shoes. But maybe his honour. Or his services for some rich asshole. For a week or so, at least.)
Adam really hoped that Professor Shurley would find something worthwhile in that book, and that the mystery of the ruins in — well, near — Winnedom would finally be solved.