Chapter VI Part I

The Crucible lands in a clearing a few miles out from Arroyo, far enough that the city’s watchful eyes won’t catch a glimpse of Papa’s ship. When the landing struts settle with that familiar hiss, the world outside is just a sea of gold grasses swaying beneath the mid-afternoon sun.

The walk to the city gates is… awkward. Papa strides ahead, his cloak brushing the undergrowth, boots crunching over the narrow dirt path. He’s giving me space — giving us space — but his presence still presses against my spine like a weight. I know I need to say something to Adam. I owe him more than silence. But every time I open my mouth, the words crumple before they reach my tongue.

By the time Arroyo’s mighty walls rise before us, the air tastes like roasting nuts and fresh-cut wood. The harvest festival is nearly here — the whole city buzzes with that restless energy that makes your fur bristle, half excitement, half something you can’t name.

Bright cloth banners ripple overhead, strung from merchant roofs to lampposts like a canopy of color. Some are old patchwork, some brand-new, the festival crest stamped in copper ink that catches the sun. Wooden stalls bloom up along the cobbled main road — half-finished market stands waiting for bushels of grain and barrels of cider. I catch a glimpse of a cart piled high with woven baskets, another stacked with garlands of dried wheat and corn husks.

The date painted on one fluttering banner catches my eye: 21.08. 5E 777 – 23.08. 5E 777. From Starnday, tomorrow, till Everdawn. An all weekend event. The 349th Annual Arroyo Harvest Festival. Supposedly, when Arroyo was nothing but a village, a vicious windstorm tore through the kingdom. Crops flattened, farms ruined — except here. A single patch of green in a sea of ruin. They say that’s why they celebrate the harvest each year —Focus, Nikko. Now’s not the time for old tales.

Adam kicks a pebble down the road beside me. He’s been quiet, his shoulders hunched just a bit. He may be a swindler, but he fought beside me without flinching — even with a cannon pressed to his skull. He deserves better than my silence.

I clear my throat, ears flicking low. “So… listen.” My voice comes out softer than I mean it to. “I… I’m really sorry for dragging you into this.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me, his tone immediately sly. “Dragging me into what?”

Oh, I see where this is going. I grit my teeth. My tail droops, wrapping around my leg like it wants to vanish. “For dragging you into a Diamond rank quest without telling you. For almost getting you killed. Or… worse.”

He lets out a snort — but there’s an edge under it. “Or worse,” he echoes, nodding once. “Killed or worse. A steep price for trying to teach me a lesson, don’t you think?”

My fur bristles along my neck. “Listen — I already feel terrible. I don’t want to be pissed off too. I’m sorry, okay?” My tail lashes once behind me — then droops again, heavy with guilt.

He opens his mouth — then stops. I feel the shift in him, that bite slipping away. “You’re right,” he says, his voice softer now. “Sorry. When I’m nervous, I don’t know how to switch it off.”

I tilt my head. Nervous? I feel it then, pulsing off him like heat from a forge. His eyes flick past me — to Papa’s broad back, a dark silhouette in the sunlit road ahead. Oh. Right. The terrifying Knight.

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask, voice low.

Adam doesn’t answer at first. He just flicks his gaze to Papa again — then back to me. I smirk, leaning in just enough to whisper, “Don’t worry. You’ve given him no reason to hurt you.”

His eyes widen, mouth twitching. “Yet?”

A grin tugs at my lips. “Yet.”

The guild hall loom up before us, Papa stopping just before the doors. He turns at towards us, arms crossed over his chest. “I have to report our findings to the Jarl. Say your goodbyes — and don’t forget to apologize to Felicity,” he says, his voice flat but tired. He disappears into the bustling crowd without waiting for my answer.

Oh. Right. Felicity.

I turn back to Adam, hugging my arms around my waist, tail flicking behind me. “I guess this is goodbye.”

But that cocky grin of his slips back into place like a mask he never really took off. “Don’t fret, Miss Gold Rank. If you ever want to adventure again — something safer, please — you know where to find me.”

He lifts two fingers to his brow in a lazy salute and slips into a narrow alleyway, the shadows swallowing him up like he was never there. I watch the empty space he leaves behind, something warm and annoying prickling in my chest. No. Stop it! But my cheeks warm anyway.

Inside the guild hall, the hush is almost comforting — the echo of footsteps, the soft rustle of parchment. I spot Felicity at the reception desk, her bright blond ponytail bouncing as she leans over to speak with another receptionist. Her eyes catch mine and narrow a touch — not cold, just expectant.

I draw a breath deep enough that my lungs ache. “Excuse me, Felicity. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

She lifts a hand to her coworker — hold on — then leads me to a quiet corner, away from the quest boards and the sleepy-eyed adventurers sprawled on benches.

“That was so unlike you, Nikko,” she says before I can even open my mouth.

“I know,” I blurt out. “And I’m really sorry for lying to you. It was reckless. I put Adam in danger too. I just— I wanted to prove—” I catch myself before I ramble. “No excuses. It was reckless and I’m very sorry.”

Felicity’s ruby-red eyes soften, the corner of her mouth lifting into something like relief. “I’m just glad your father got to you in time.”

Me too.

I duck my head, my ears flattening, my tail curling low around my ankle. “I hope you can forgive me.”

She lets out a small sigh, then smiles — warm and a little tired. “I do. Just promise me you won’t ever pull a stunt like that again.”

“I promise.” And I mean it — every bone in me means it.

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“Good.” She lifts her ledger from the counter, flipping it open with a faint snap. “But you did break guild rules. So — the experience you would’ve earned is voided. And from now on, you’re not allowed to accept quests one rank higher without the guild master’s direct approval.”

I wince — but it’s fair. It’s more than fair. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

I pause, breath catching in my throat. “And — Adam had nothing to do with this. None of it was his idea. He didn’t know. He just… got dragged in because of me. He doesn’t deserve any punishment. Please.”

Felicity’s smile softens even more. She closes her ledger with a quiet thud and taps the cover with one fingertip. “Don’t worry, Nikko. No one’s holding him responsible for this. He did nothing wrong.”

A little weight slides off my shoulders. I nod, my tail giving the tiniest flick. “Thank you.”

She chuckles — the sound is light, like a lantern in a dark hallway. “Just keep that promise, all right? I’d like to keep seeing you come home in one piece.”

“I will.” I breathe out a quiet laugh. “I promise.”

She gives my shoulder a gentle pat, then slips back behind the counter. I drift to the benches near reception, my tail curling tight around my boots. I fold my hands in my lap, feeling the weight of it all press into my bones.

I wait by the bench near the reception, eyes flicking to the front doors every few seconds. Papa’s still not back — whatever he’s reporting to the Jarl must be taking longer than I thought. Time drags like wet cloth on stone.

To pass the minutes, I wander toward the bronze to gold rank boards — my eyes skimming over simple escort runs, supply deliveries, and the occasional pest cull. The parchment edges flutter faintly in the warm draft from the old hearth. Easy work — for anyone who isn’t grounded like I am.

Then the thought drifts in — unexpected but stubborn. Academies. There are so many in Elasier. Old stories, old daydreams. Maybe there’s something here — some spark that says where I’m supposed to go next.

My eyes flick toward the old corner board — the one where people tack up the less urgent stuff. Little errands, festival helpers wanted, the odd traveling merchant needing guards for a half-day. But that board has always been more than just side gigs. It’s been covered in festival flyers, carnival invites, traveling musicians’ posters — once, even a hand-painted sign for a wandering circus with a tiger that could juggle. If there were any magical academy flyers anywhere, they’d be here.

I cross to the board, my boots tapping soft on the old wooden floor. I flip through each paper, fingers sifting through notes for festival workers, wanted ads for firewood splitters, even a half-faded drawing of a lost goat. But nothing — no crisp parchment promising classes in magic theory, no colorful leaflets advertising entrance exams.

I grit my teeth and check again, digging beneath the wanted posters like maybe one’s hiding there just for me. Still nothing. Dammit.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Felicity near the guild hall’s front door, shrugging into her long cloak. I hurry over, my tail flicking behind me — nerves and hope twisting in equal measure.

“Hey, Felicity? Can I ask you something before you go?” I call.

She pauses in the archway, one glove half-pulled on. That warm smile of hers flickers back into place, softening her eyes even after everything. “Of course, Nikko. What can I help you with?”

I rub at the back of my neck, feeling the heat there. “Do you know anything about the magical academies in Elasier? I mean — really know them?”

Her eyebrows lift a little, surprised. “Magical academies?” She hums under her breath, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “A bit. Why? Thinking of leaving the adventurer life already?” She teases gently, but I just shrug.

“I just wondered if maybe an academy would be… for me.”

Her expression shifts — that spark of curiosity I’ve seen when she’s piecing together a puzzle at the counter. “Hmm. I suppose I can spare a few minutes.” She glances around the now quiet hall, then gestures to the long bench by the quest board. “Come on. Sit.”

I do, perching beside her as she smooths her skirt and props her ledger on her knees, like she can’t help but be organized even now.

“I can’t name all of the academies — Gods, there must be a dozen dotted around each continent — but I know three worth mentioning,” she starts. Her fingers tap a soft rhythm on the ledger’s spine. “First, there’s the Eldorian Magical Academy. It’s the oldest — deep in Edolith. But…” She chuckles. “You’d need to pass an extensive written exam and a practical magic test just to get in. They only take twenty students each intake.”

I grimace. “Figures. Sounds… intense.”

“It is.” Felicity laughs under her breath. “Then there’s the Vahal Academy.”

I blink at her. “Wait — the dwarves have their own magic school?”

She smirks. “Of course. They’re not just miners and smithies, you know. Runes and enchanted stones? That’s dwarven magic to its bones. Vahal’s built right into a mountainside. But…” She tilts her head at my tail, my ears, the way I’m shifting on the bench. “Something tells me spending three winters underground isn’t your style.”

“Not even a little bit,” I admit, and she chuckles again.

“And the third?” I press.

A spark lights up in her eyes — something personal. “Gallifrey. Located far south, in the Kingdom of Concordia. My sister studies there.”

“Concordia…” I roll the name around my mouth. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s tucked way down near Bordoria,” she explains, her voice drifting almost dreamy for a moment. “Just south of my home, Angelov.”

Angelov — the word feels like silver on my tongue. The City of Angels, Papa once called it. A place so bright at night you can see the city lights from orbit. Or so he swears.

“Concordia’s a special place,” Felicity goes on. “A council-run kingdom — every race has a seat. It’s said anyone is welcome there. And just beyond Angelov’s southern border is Gallifrey Academy. They call it the Crown Jewel of the Eastern Continent.”

My ears perk. “What makes it so special?”

Her voice lifts a fraction, pride edging in. “Their architecture alone draws scholars from across the seas. But it’s more than that — they don’t just teach magic. They teach magic history, enchanting, rune carving, alchemy, lore, math, philosophy, swordsmanship, blacksmithing—”

“Whoa, whoa, Felicity—!” I wave my hands, laughing despite myself. “I get it — they teach a lot.”

She coughs, a bit sheepish. “Right. Sorry. They’ve won the Academy Grand Magic Games seven years in a row. So, you’d be aiming high. But I think you’d love it.”

I feel my heart skitter against my ribs — that thrill of maybe, maybe, maybe. “Do you have any flyers? Or an address I could write to them?”

She stands, brushing out her cloak, the leather creaking faintly. “Flyers, no. But when I visit my sister next week, I’ll ask around for you. Get you the right address, maybe a contact name.”

I stare at her, warmth bubbling up through the guilt and doubt that’s clung to me for days. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Of course,” she says, her smile as gentle as moonlight. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Nikko. And you deserve to find out where it leads.”

I can’t help it — my tail flicks, ears perked straight up. “Thank you, Felicity. Really.”

She chuckles, already wrapping her scarf around her shoulders. “Don’t thank me yet. Just promise you’ll study as hard as you swing that blade.”

“I will,” I say, grinning now. “Promise.”

She checks the clock on the wall, eyes widening. “And now, I really do have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow — or whenever you need me.”

“See you tomorrow,” I echo as she waves and steps into the crisp night air. The door closes behind her, leaving me in the quiet hum of the old guild hall.

I press my palm over my chest, the flutter still there — warm and new.