come from. They looked vaguely like the symbols used to indicate patterns in magical flow that students were taught from, though they had no meaning she could discern.
“Calm yourself, child,” the man said smoothly, seemingly trying to wave aside her unspoken concerns. “I think we’re headed to the same place. You will come to no harm, so you do not need to call for your manservant.”
The man sat there watching her for some time as Ilarra debated how to respond to him, if at all. His eyes were cold and seemed to study everything the same way she had once seen her father study a butterfly pinned to a table. Even the other travelers seemed to notice this and shifted their soft conversations so they could avoid being under that scrutiny.
“Though it’s none of your business, human,” she began trying to puff herself up to counteract the nervousness the man had put into her, “I’m apprenticed to the towers of high magic in the city. I certainly doubt we’re heading to the same place, given their dislike of foreigners.”
The robed human laughed dryly and nodded. When his mirth was met by Ilarra’s attempt at a regal stare, he stifled his chuckles and cleared his throat.
“I am sorry to be so rude,” he explained. “Where I come from, most of our people are educated in some form of magic. I laugh at your lands’ desire to sequester all the knowledge in dramatically-named places and not at you or your situation. I apologize. I hope your towers are most educational and I will trouble you no further today.”
The man was silent after that, staring off at the horizon like the other people in the wagon. Still, Ilarra was nervous and hoped it was not showing. Among her fellow residents of Hyeth education and partnering with wildlings like Raeln had been their means of survival against the clans of aggressive barbarian tribes. Having her status as an apprentice of Lantonne’s wizards mocked left a bad taste in her mouth.
Even as she contemplated getting off the wagon entirely to hike the rest of the way regardless of the distance, Ilarra heard the call from somewhere farther up the wagon train that a city was in sight. Instantly, all concerns about the man were forgotten as excitement over their arrival overtook her.
She leaned as far out the side of the wagon as she could, just barely making out a faint structure in the distance. The thin groupings of trees in this part of the plains barely allowed the city to be visible at their distance. By Ilarra’s guess, they were still a day out given how tall the tower in the middle of Lantonne was rumored to be.
Rudeness and hurt feelings forgotten in that moment, Ilarra watched the speck in the distance slowly grow as evening set. The massive city gradually took over the horizon, making her ignore everything else in wonder at its sheer size.
When she woke the next morning—somewhat less sick than she had been the whole trip—she could see the thin line of the city’s walls and its single great tower keep. That tower bore two side spires that could only be accessed from the main structure. These were wherein she had heard the wizards taught apprentices. It was where she was to live, until she either mastered what could be taught, or she was thrown out as a failure.
Years of her father’s—albeit basic—teachings of magic had finally paid off. She was where she wanted to be and people like the robed human would soon learn to respect her. Maybe not within their lives but certainly by the end of hers, people would know of her. She could just feel it.
During the long morning, the wagons trundled past a small and desolate village set far from the main city of Lantonne, but Ilarra only had eyes for the large city itself. She heard the other passengers talking about it, but she could not be bothered with anything but Lantonne itself.
By noon, the wagon began to move through the outlying city of Lantonne. For nearly a mile, they traveled down the streets of the
“Calm yourself, child,” the man said smoothly, seemingly trying to wave aside her unspoken concerns. “I think we’re headed to the same place. You will come to no harm, so you do not need to call for your manservant.”
The man sat there watching her for some time as Ilarra debated how to respond to him, if at all. His eyes were cold and seemed to study everything the same way she had once seen her father study a butterfly pinned to a table. Even the other travelers seemed to notice this and shifted their soft conversations so they could avoid being under that scrutiny.
“Though it’s none of your business, human,” she began trying to puff herself up to counteract the nervousness the man had put into her, “I’m apprenticed to the towers of high magic in the city. I certainly doubt we’re heading to the same place, given their dislike of foreigners.”
The robed human laughed dryly and nodded. When his mirth was met by Ilarra’s attempt at a regal stare, he stifled his chuckles and cleared his throat.
“I am sorry to be so rude,” he explained. “Where I come from, most of our people are educated in some form of magic. I laugh at your lands’ desire to sequester all the knowledge in dramatically-named places and not at you or your situation. I apologize. I hope your towers are most educational and I will trouble you no further today.”
The man was silent after that, staring off at the horizon like the other people in the wagon. Still, Ilarra was nervous and hoped it was not showing. Among her fellow residents of Hyeth education and partnering with wildlings like Raeln had been their means of survival against the clans of aggressive barbarian tribes. Having her status as an apprentice of Lantonne’s wizards mocked left a bad taste in her mouth.
Even as she contemplated getting off the wagon entirely to hike the rest of the way regardless of the distance, Ilarra heard the call from somewhere farther up the wagon train that a city was in sight. Instantly, all concerns about the man were forgotten as excitement over their arrival overtook her.
She leaned as far out the side of the wagon as she could, just barely making out a faint structure in the distance. The thin groupings of trees in this part of the plains barely allowed the city to be visible at their distance. By Ilarra’s guess, they were still a day out given how tall the tower in the middle of Lantonne was rumored to be.
Rudeness and hurt feelings forgotten in that moment, Ilarra watched the speck in the distance slowly grow as evening set. The massive city gradually took over the horizon, making her ignore everything else in wonder at its sheer size.
When she woke the next morning—somewhat less sick than she had been the whole trip—she could see the thin line of the city’s walls and its single great tower keep. That tower bore two side spires that could only be accessed from the main structure. These were wherein she had heard the wizards taught apprentices. It was where she was to live, until she either mastered what could be taught, or she was thrown out as a failure.
Years of her father’s—albeit basic—teachings of magic had finally paid off. She was where she wanted to be and people like the robed human would soon learn to respect her. Maybe not within their lives but certainly by the end of hers, people would know of her. She could just feel it.
During the long morning, the wagons trundled past a small and desolate village set far from the main city of Lantonne, but Ilarra only had eyes for the large city itself. She heard the other passengers talking about it, but she could not be bothered with anything but Lantonne itself.
By noon, the wagon began to move through the outlying city of Lantonne. For nearly a mile, they traveled down the streets of the
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