Fantasy The Academy of Lyrithna

[Arrt Saunders]

​

The Isridil Forest
The Darkest Night
12.00 am

"How many will we need?"

"I am not sure."​

The young sorcerer crossed their arms, huffing loudly. They wanted nothing more than to leave - to turn and run to the safety of the castle. The Isridil Forest was dark and cold, and the moonlight slithering through the canopy did not dare pierce the shadows which clung to the earth like cursed spirits. Beastly sounds, guttural and blood-thirsty, echoed in the grave silence. No student was allowed enter the Isridil Forest, especially at night.

They were crazy to have ventured into its heart.

When the sorcerer look at their companion, they were on their knees, whispering in a forgotten language.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

There was no reply. The chanting intensified - the bone-grinding, stomach-churning, teeth- chattering power, intertwined into the harsh fricatives and crude syllables, reverberated through the ground.

"What the fuck..."

"Do you not hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"The screams?"

The young sorcerer's blood ran cold: "Screaming? What screaming?"

"The screams of tortured souls? The lost and the found? Begging to be released from their hellish chains."

"I don't hear anything."

Then - slowly at first, building into a sinister crescendo - the screaming began.

Horrid, terrible voices rose into the air, the agonising sounds of pain, misery and suffering singing an eldritch symphony.

The young sorcerer screamed, covering their ears and backing away in fear.

"Soon," the kneeling figure cooed, "soon, you shall see the light of day once more."​

​

​

 

[Arrt Saunders]

​

Ethan Odenkirk
Martial Magic
Illusionism

The malodorous perfume of devilswort and dragonbane filled the air, the candle-smoke heavy above Ethan’s head. The miasmic smog swirled cloud-like in sweeping circles, rolling from room to room. The burning candles were supposed to help with relaxation - his mother swore they worked, but Ethan never understood how. The toxic smell only made him lightheaded and wheezy.

Smothering a cough, Ethan slowly zipped his suitcase shut, checking that every item on his extensive list was nestled inside. The school term at Lyrithna was lengthy, and anything he forgot would be unobtainable until the Christmas holiday when the Chancellor opened the glasspoints. He had fumbled his packing in first year, and he was not willing to make the same mistake twice.

“Are you all packed, love?”

Ethan turned around. His mother was standing in the doorway, a small, golden tray in her hands, on which sat a golden teapot and a golden cup.

“All finished,” Ethan said, looking at the tray. “Do we really need to do this? I can’t miss the glasspoint or I won’t be able to leave.”

He gestured at the wall mirror. The letter from the Council of Magic specifically stated that his glasspoint would be open for exactly two minutes. Two solitary moments. Not one second longer. Not one second out of place.

His mother, obviously to his concern, stared at him sternly: “We must. You are not setting foot outside this house, young man, until I know that you’re going to be safe. Your sister is gregariously galavanting around the Circus with your father, your brother is an enigmatic mystery, and I am not letting you out of my sight until I know, for certain, that the only light in my life will come home to me.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. He knew there was no way to argue with her. He couldn’t win. His mother was a kind-hearted soul, but she was as viciously protective as a dragon of her family.

“Fine.”

“Good,” Serana Odenkirk said, putting the tray down on Ethan’s desk. She poured the tea into the cup and handed cautiously it to her son. “Drink, but do not disturb the leaves. The pattern of the leaves is of the utmost importance.”

Ethan snatched the cup and quickly swallowed the sickeningly sweet, yet exceedingly bitter, liquid. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he carefully handed the cup back, disgusted by the horrid taste. He didn't understand why his mother insisted on making the foulest tea in the Citadel.

Serana took the cup and examined the pattern of the leaves. She swirled the cup gently between her gaunt fingers, her beady eyes, gazing down over the rim of her thin glasses, scrutinising every detail.

She gazed and gazed, twisted and turned, and muttered strange utterances under her breath.

“Mom?” Ethan called out, as he enchanted his suitcase with a protective charm. “Is it good or bad? I have a glasspoint to make.”

His mother didn’t respond. Normally, whenever he left for school, it was a quick glance and a relieved smile; this time seemed disconcertingly different. Ethan didn’t like it. He couldn’t miss his chance to escape his father’s house, even if it meant leaving his mother alone for a while. A tea reading was not going to cost him his year at the Academy.

“Mom?”

“I don’t know, love,” she mumbled. She wore a worried expression, one Ethan had not seen in many lunar cycles. “I cannot interpret the leaves. Do we have time for a card reading? You know they are much more forthcoming than these fickle folioles?”

“No.”

“But...”

“I’m sorry, mom. I just don't have time,” he said, stepping beside her to look into the cup. Divination was not his forte - he couldn't understood how sorcerers could distinguish one brownish clump from another brownish clot, and accurately predict the future from the deposition of beverage remnants. And although he would never say so to his mother, who prided herself on her divination, Ethan found that most predictions were either wrong or too vague not to come true.

The mirror behind his back began to sing, the pane of glass shimmering like sun-kissed crystal. Ethan glanced quickly over his shoulder. It was time to leave.

“I promise I’ll be okay,” he said, pulling his mother into a big hug. “I won’t talk to strangers, I’ll avoid the duelling club, and I’ll stay out of trouble. And, I’ll be back home for Christmas - I swear. But, I really have to go. You know I do.”

Serana squeezed him tightly, a small sob slipping past her pursed lips. “I know,” she said, kissing his forehead affectionately. “I just hate when you’re gone. Even the days where you’re grumpier than your father.”

“Bogglewart, I’m not that bad.”

“Watch your language - you come pretty close some mornings.”

“Mom!”

Serana released Ethan from her vice-like grip, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Just be careful, that’s all I ask.”

“I will be,” Ethan said, walking towards the mirror. He could feel the magic pulling him towards the glass. He could smell the rustic aroma of the Academy creeping through the portal.

“I’ll see you soon, mom.”

“Goodbye, love. Have a safe trip.”

Ethan waved goodbye and, without any hesitation, stepped backwards into the mirror. In the blink of an eye, Ethan was standing at the main gate of the Academy, surrounding by arriving sorcerers. His stomach lurched a little from the glassing, an universally uncomfortable experience, but the cold air soon settled his constitution.

Home, he thought. With plenty of fresh meat for duelling club.

It was going to be an incredible year.

 

[deianeira]

Lucia Sheikh

Well, this certainly isn't working…

With pursed lips, Lucia Sheikh watched over her cramped luggage with contempt. Spilling from its insides were numerous bottles and ingredient sets, interspersed with the occasional random article of clothing or familiar care equipment for her snake. If she was honest, she would probably rather remove either of the latter items before sacrificing any her precious potions materials.

Huffing all the while, Lucia made her way over to the dresser opposite of where she had been standing in her bedroom. On it was a small, ornate, silver-encrusted box containing her stones. The container had been the very box in which her first wand had arrived in, and she still used it to house her ability crystals to this day. Lucia supposed she could come up with some b.s. reason, like 'the sentimental energy dispels all negative energies that could affect my casting,' or 'magic tools deserve to be held in a box imbued with similar properties,' but the truth of the matter was that she had been given the wand by her mother, and it was one of her last gifts to Lucia before her untimely death.

Lucia flipped the lid open and begun to scavenge through the many crystals she had accumulated throughout the years. While she had always been particularly skilled at decoction and the occasional conjuration, the other specialties had always befuddled her in a manner that was rather embarrassing. Still, no one had to know about her casual use of aids in the comfort of her own home, especially when the prying eyes of the other students could potentially botch up her spells.

As soon as her eyes glanced upon the dark stone with bright blue and green streaks piled underneath some of the newer additions, Lucia knew she was in luck. The Azurite slab sparkled in the light of the morning sun shining through her windows, and she took a few fleeting moments to simply observe the gorgeous gem.

Soon, such activities will be swallowed by schoolwork, experiments, and orders. She thought with a heaving sigh.

Lucia grabbed the largest material from her suitcase-ironically enough, an actual school book, supposedly for her school work-and placed the gem on its surface. Azurite was a stone of focus, allowing the user to clear their mind of mental stress and focus in on their magic, which Lucia found was often the reason for her disturbed spells outside of her specialty. After reciting a general chant for magic success, she placed her hands on the gem. With a mutter of 'Liber Mutatio Parva,' the once overbearing mass of her textbook was now the size of a small bottle cap. Lucia smiled to herself, satisfied, and managed to repeat the spell a few more times before deciding to stop trying her luck at this particular type of magic. Best to stick to my specialties! She laughed to herself, thinking back on some of the more… interesting consequences of botched transformation magic.

Needless to say, the magic had done it's work, and her luggage now was only slightly cramped, and fully zipped. After lugging the bag over her shoulder, Lucia took one last glance back at her childhood bedroom. While it was small, unfavorable, and relatively unfamiliar after her many years at the Academy (which had inevitably become her home), it was still her bedroom, and she smiled grimly at the cherry red walls before closing the door. She wouldn't see that bedroom again for another year, at least.

As she entered the kitchen perpendicular to her bedroom, Lucia couldn't help but laugh at the expression of her father's face as he tried to scavenge what was certainly a 'surprise' for her going away. Aarav Sheikh, for all that it was worth, was never a father to simply give up because of the fact that their family was rather poor. Strung around the kitchen were a few balloons and a banner, hanging on the threads of barely-there tape. On the table was a hastily decorated birthday cake from the store. Of course, it wasn't Lucia's birthday, but it had become a running gag that her father couldn't bake for shit, and therefore always just bought a pre-made cake from the store, scraped of the 'Happy Birthday' message, and attempted calligraphy to write 'Good Luck, Lucia!'

Even if her room was no longer the familiar haven of her childhood, this event certainly was. After the death of his wife, Paula, Aarav Sheikh had tried his best to provide for their young daughter, and this particular tradition had been occurring since Lucia's 6th birthday.

Lucia, with an increasingly rare smile graced on her lips, dropped her luggage with vigor and ran up to her father to give him a hug. Inhaling deeply, she tried her best to prevent tears from escaping. "Dad, you know I'm gonna miss you, right?"

"Of course, sweetheart." Aarav replied with a hearty laugh, "But I'll always miss you more. It's much too quiet around here!" Her father, as usual, was already crying. Apparently the last few years of this same exact practice hadn't dried up his tears yet.

"I don't doubt that." Releasing her father, Lucia grabbed the kitchen knife, cutting herself a rather sizable piece. Even though it was never her father that actually made whatever desserts they had around their home, it was the thought that counted. Taking a large bite, Lucia covered her mouth and spoke through a mouth full of icing, "Wow, this is even better than last year's, Dad!"

"Hmm, that's good. You know I slave away for hours perfecting the recipe, yes?" With a smile, Aarav grabbed himself a slice, and the next few minutes were spent in comfortable silence, marked only by the sounds of chewing and with father and daughter enjoying each other's company. Every time that she went away for the Academy, her father was always the person she'd miss most. He always had such a light to him.

Lucia cleared her throat and stood up, placing her dishes in the sink as she moved to pick up her familiar, Elidi. The added had been a birthday gift, several years before, and the added weight of the snake on her shoulders had always brought her some sense of comfort. Glancing at the clock, Lucia turned back to her father after taking note of the time. "I think I'll be off then; the glasspoint will only be open for two minutes."

With a curt nod, Aarav stood up and embraced his only child once more. "I wish you the best, sweetheart." He grabbed her shoulders lightly, "Show them all exactly what you can do!"

Kissing her father on the cheek, she moved to pick up her luggage once more. "I will, Dad." And with that, she was off.

The letter from Chancellor Paraph regarding her glasspoint had been received a few days prior, and with a glance around the surrounding neighborhood of her home, Lucia was immediately able to point out the location described in the paper. Walking up to the crystal clear lake, a stark contrast to it's rather… run-down surroundings, Lucia glanced down at the water. Just like a mirror, yeah?

Even if logic prevented her from worrying about her clothes or luggage getting wet, it was not enough to stop Lucia from taking a long, deep breath in before walking straight into the pool of water. Sure enough, there was only enough time to blink before she was standing before adjacent to the magnificent Academy gates.

Suddenly, everything just felt right again. This happened every time Lucia went home from term, but she had never particularly managed to get used to the feeling. It just seemed like her heart realized how the Academy and Vitis house, in particular, was her home, more so than the house that she traveled to every summer.

With a small smile, Lucia started on her way towards her House. On the way, she passed a few other students, bemoaning the start of school once again. However, she couldn't relate in the slightest. Personally, I can't help but wait for this term to get started.

mentions: N/A || with: N/A || location: Academy Gates ​

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll​

 

[Kiroshiven]

Ezekial let out a heavy sigh as he approached the small lake hidden within the park back home. "Thank goodness that my glasspoint is different from Veronica's." He spoke to Nox as the fox ran about around his feet and between his legs. The glasspoint for him, coincidentally had been where he met the fox a year or two prior. After some healing and learning how binding a familiar worked the pair had become damn near inseparable. "So now begins my new life at Lyrithna." Zeke was a bit troubled about going to the same school as his sister, but whether he liked it or not, his best chance to perfect his spell was there. With the help of his sister, Zeke had managed to pack everything he needed into a duffel bag and was thankful for the assistance. Basking in the silence and peace of the lake, Zeke was surprised when his phone sounded off, evaporating any calm into nothingness. "Hey mom." Zeke sighed into the phone.

"Hey sweetie. Your sister's glasspoint just closed up. Are you at the right spot?" Her voice sounded a bit frantic. Being a doctor at a hospital for the magically wounded was a bit stressful and it sounded like she was trying to run out the door to get to work. "I wish that the dean had given you both the same glasspoint."

"You know Veronica wouldn't want to be seen next to me. She's heavily involved in the dueling club and has a reputation. She wouldn't want her peace loving brother who prefers time with animals to cramp her style." Zeke gave a depreciative joke and laugh while he waited. "But I do wish dad could be here to see this."

"You know he'd be proud of you Zeke. You're going to do something amazing with that cradle thing of yours." Her voice became soft as she spoke about her late husband. The man had always been better at dealing with Zeke's desire to protect people than she had. If it meant Zeke being in danger, she didn't want that. "Look, if things get too difficult. Or if you should find that it's not what you're looking for, don't be afraid to contact me. I'll get in touch with the dean and get you home quick."

"That's not going to happen mom." Zeke's words were firm and reminded her of his father. "I'm going to make this spell usable by anyone. And I'm going to make sure that it saves lives in the future. If I have to put up with a bit of hardship to achieve that, so be it." Thinking back on when he firs cast the spell, Zeke reached up and placed a hand on the scar that spread across his shoulder blades. With his shirt on, it was unnoticeable. But when he took it off, the dark splotch was incredibly apparent against his pale skin. Just as he was about to continue, the lake began to shimmer, letting him know it was time to go. "Sorry mom. I gotta go, the glasspoint's active."

"Ok Zeke. Just be safe and don't let your sister push you around." A small pause while the sound of a car door slamming played over the phone. "And whatever you do, just don't get caught up in some trouble trying to save someone. I almost lost you once, I don't want to ACTUALLY lose you."

"You know I can't promise that mom, but I'll do everything I can to come home in one piece." Another brief silence between the two. "I love you mom. And I'll be back at the end of the year." With a click the phone hung up and he moved to the lake. As he knelt down, Nox climbed onto his bag and with a yip signaled she was ready to go. "Let's go Nox. It's a new life for us, from here on out." Placing his hand on the lake, he felt the rush of magic and the next thing he knew, he was already at the gates to the academy. "It's finally time."

Just as he was about to walk forward, Zeke felt the malintent he'd grown up sensing whenever his parents weren't around and readied his defense. "Shellga Aero." He muttered to himself as he quickly spun towards the threat, a small sphere of wind surrounding him as a pebble hit his shield and clattered to the side. "VERONICA!" He snarled as he saw his elder sister standing a good twenty meters away, tossing what looked like pebbles into the air with what looked like two friends standing on either side of her. They were mumbling to one another, most likely about him. "Seriously?!" He snarled as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and started hustling into the crowd. He didn't have time for her shenanigans or her bullying. He just wanted to get to Alnus house, set up his stuff and then explore the campus.

 

[Abendrot]

Kavita

The prospect of an incoming school year always came with a certain excitement that resounded through Kavita's being. She had come to think of the Academy in the same way most people envisioned their own personal paradise. One of the most decorated centers of learning in the Citadel, holding ten times ten thousand tomes and books, where people would know the answers to every question she could ever ask. She longed to be a true academic, to receive real instruction and spend time on deep research and study. Perhaps that burning passion was what spurred her down the path she'd chosen to begin with. She would have to remain focused, for Lyrithna was but one, early step towards her ultimate goal.

Kavita considered this as she switched on her alchemy lamp, then carefully descended into the basement below. The small, steel lantern in her hand contained a simple array that converted ambient heat in the environment into pale light. It was brighter than any mortal-made flashlight and lasted nearly forever. Small wonder they'd become nearly ubiquitous in the Citadel. She spun around, eyes darting for possible witnesses to her magic. Dawn was fast approaching, and in a few minutes, regular people would be filling the streets outside the basement of this jewelry shop, and its owner would be arriving to open up for business, wondering why his store was being broken into by a girl with a backpack and schoolclothes.

When she was certain the coast was clear, Kavita stepped down the ramp into the basment, where it became abundantly clear that it hadn't been used in a long time. The floor and walls were bare concrete, aside from a few cardboard boxes filled with odds and ends. A thick layer of dust covered every surface. Little motes floating through the air, stirred up by incoming feet, sparkled in the lamplight.

Who ever thought to put a glasspoint in a place like this? Kavita wondered, running her fingers across a dilapidated steel column. As she stepped along one of the walls, however, she noticed that one part of it was different from the others. The bulk of it was made of ordinary concrete, whereas this section was carved from intricately worked stone. There were detailed patterns of leaves, vines, and trees, remarkable even under its coat of dust. The concrete was old, but the stone had clearly been there long, long beforehand.

Granite, 17th century, Kavita guessed. Had she the time, she would have studied them closer. She might not have known of the mason's work or designs, but what she did see impressed her, and raised other questions.

"Padma patram," she whispered, recalling the passcode she'd been given. Suddenly, Kavita thought she could see the mural ruffled by some unseen breeze. A tapestry of spring greenery came alight in the dark cellar, and, almost imperceptibly, a split formed in the middle of the carving, widening as the two halves slowly swung outward, Behind, where should have been dirt or the foundation of the next building over, a dull, reflective shimmering faintly caught her image.

For the briefiest moment, she was still, staring at the glasspoint.

Find him, came an intrusive thought.

With a deep breath, Kavita strode into the shimmer, stepping into her own reflection. An icy sensation slid along her skin, as if she were walking into a wall of cold water. Time stretched out; the cold enveloped one hair at a time, shivered over her clothes thread by thread.

In an instant, the chill stopped, and she was outside. It was still cold, but it was not the icy chill of the glasspoint or the stale cold of the basement, but a natural autumn temperature that slowly burrowed into her skin. The white towers of the Academy and their gold-worked gates towered above her, presenting itself as almost objectively magnificent. The romantic in her wanted to linger and admire the sight, but Kavita had no time to waste.

First things first, she thought. Get yourself situated. Then, head straight for the Archives

mentions: N/A || with: N/A || location: Academy of Lyrithna​

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll​