Chương 15: Warning Signs

Most of the time, Alaric blessed the greatest achievement of his life. Becoming the Headmaster of Arcoryx Academy had taken decades of not just stellar research and a spotless academic record, but also a good deal of politicking and influence-garnering. It called upon too many skills and abilities to be anything short of a momentous accomplishment. Alaric couldn't help but be proud.

If he was being honest, becoming Headmaster of Arcoryx Academy was an even bigger accomplishment than becoming a Primordial-ranked Archmage. There was just one other person of that rank in all of Androvia, and she was the second most powerful figure in the nation. Yet, there was only one Headmaster of Arcoryx Academy in all of the Accorded Realms. Today, however, was one of those days he was tempted to curse his appointment as Arcoryx's eighteenth Headmaster.

Alaric could deal with exacting board members, eccentric teachers, and wayward students. He could handle the various crises that tended to pop up all over the academy—experiments gone wrong here, funding issues there, and so on. Those were expected problems. What wasn't expected, though, was the man who had triggered every significant warning Alaric had the ability to check. The magical clock on his desk whose hands pointed to different circumstances he was currently facing?

Right now, its lone hand pointed at twelve o'clock. At Calamity-level danger. His magical goldfish? It had teleported away from inside its fishbowl. The small Inscribed colourless jewel hanging from his ear? It was glowing a deep, fatal red. And those were just Alaric's personal effects. Arcoryx's strongest defence, the Tier [21] [Warding] spell Inscribed across not just the campus but the entire city beyond it too, had sent out a category zero warning. It wasn't indicating imminent, calamitous danger.

Otherwise, the whole city would have been up in arms. Rather, it had sent out a subtle indication of a fluctuating situation. A potential for obliterating peril. All because of this man sitting across from him, munching on a terribly-gnawed breakfast roll.

"I see you've already had food," Alaric said.

"But would you care for any further refreshments?" His words might have come out smooth, but his soul really wasn't. Because this whole situation was unprecedented. Alaric had been in the presence of rare individuals who had set off all his personal alarms before. Others who were Primordial-ranked, the lone Empyrean he had been blessed to meet, they had all been powerful enough to give him the same sense of power. But not the same sense of outright danger.

In truth, that was partly because he had been prepared for those meetings. He had gone in expecting to be in the presence of figures who had branded themselves into the pages of history. This Ryland was a complete unknown, yet had given rise to the worst flood of alarms Alaric had ever faced.

"No, thank you," Ryland said smoothly. Was that his real name or just an alias? Alaric would need to check the records. Even if it existed in truth, it could be an impersonation. Ryland turned to the boy, who flushed at being the centre of attention.

"No, thank you," the boy, Viren, echoed.

"Headmaster." And to think an academy student was mixed up in this. Whatever Alaric did, he'd also need to consider how he could extricate Viren safely from the situation. He'd never let a student remain in danger for any longer than was strictly necessary. Yes, the Excursion Club's very existence occasionally grated on him.

"I see," Alaric said.

"Then let us continue our discussion. You said you were seeking your old research? To… find a piece of yourself, as you put it?"

"That is the immediate goal, yes." Ryland took another nibble of his roll, then inhaled a deep, preparatory breath. He started speaking so fast, even Alaric had difficulty keeping up.

"…used to be a student… didn't have patience to get Archmage… in the Realmbreaker Wars for research… saw a Calamity… fought a Calamity… unleashed a Calamity…" Resisting the urge to tug his beard, Alaric cleared his throat a little noisily. The deluge of information wasn't hurting his head so much as the fact that his Glyph of Truth, hidden in his palm, was glowing an irrevocable, undeniable green." Unleashed a Calamity, you said?" Ryland was about to take another bite of his roll, but he paused mid-bite.

"I would like to prevent more Calamities from rising." It was the absolute truth. Alaric had a hard time resisting the urge to run his hand through his beard again. Normally, any lone man claiming that he wished to stop Calamities would have been the height of ridicule. And yet, the defensive Glyphs Inscribed upon Alaric's body and clothes were flaring to life. The one on his heart, the one he trusted the most, insisted that he had never before been this close to death. That fact should have terrified Alaric.

He was the strongest mage in the entire academy, if not the entire city. He might have been Primordial-ranked now, but slowly but surely, he was closing in on Empyrean as well. Yet Ryland posed the greatest, most fatal threat he had ever faced. It was just that his sense of alarm was clashing wildly against the man taking a small bite out of his roll and clearly savouring it.

"The Manabreak mine is well contained," Alaric said.

"We haven't had any breaches or other issues in over two centuries now." This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Ryland nodded.

"I'm aware. However, that isn't the source of Calamities I came here to counteract. The dungeon I destroyed when I met Viren had grown out of a tiny sliver of a fingernail. My fingernail. I destroyed it before it could outgrow its status as a mere dungeon in the countryside. I'd like to prevent something similar from occurring in Arcoryx."

"That's…" True, said his Glyph of Truth. It wasn't just any old Glyph, of course. This was a Tier [18] Glyph of Truth. There was only one version that was stronger, and that was employed in the Royal Justice's court. The Glyph judged how true a statement was not just based on the speaker's belief, but based on circumstance as well. A madman could state the wildest of things, yet basic Glyphs of Truth would claim it was perfectly believable because the speaker believed it. But not his Glyph.

"So you believe there's another sliver of your fingernail in Arcoryx?" Alaric asked, hating just how ridiculous the sentence sounded.

"Not necessarily a fingernail…" Ryland cast a Glyph. Alaric recognized the shape—a Glyph of Questing—but it was the potency that made his mouth refuse to close. That gleaming, iridescence-dotted white was way beyond Tier [19], the highest spell Tier Alaric himself had reached. He couldn't even identify its exact Tier.

"As you can see, it's here. In Arcoryx." Who in the world had Viren dragged into the academy? Certain details formed a disquieting picture in his head. Someone from the Realmbreaker Wars had returned. There were infamous reports of ancient mages from all those centuries back still existing out there in various capacities. Some brought ruin, some brought abundance. All were momentous. The only Empyrean on this side of Vyrd was from that legendary era too. And now one of them was at his academy.

"I'm afraid I can't simply allow an unaffiliated mage to run amok in the academy," Alaric said. His fingers had automatically gone to his beard and he yanked them away.

"Even if he is an alumni. You understand, yes?" A multitude of instincts was warning him to act conciliatory, to ensure his guest didn't get mad. Making an enemy of Ryland wouldn't go well for Alaric, or for Arcoryx. Yet, the man himself hadn't given a single indication he meant any ill will. Ryland swallowed the bite of his roll before answering.

"Do you suggest I become re-affiliated with the academy, then?" Alaric's mind started racing. This was what he had been installed as the Headmaster for. Making these decisions. Bringing either damnation or blessing.

"In what capacity? We cannot hire an Academ without an associated Archmage degree. Besides which, there is a rigorous vetting process, as Arcoryx only takes the best of the best, you understand."

"Yes, of course." Alaric was stalling. While nothing he had said was a lie, Ryland would, without a doubt, pass any sort of evaluation the hiring committee could perform with flying colours. If every single proof he had seen wasn't a lie, if all the warnings from all the alarms and the myriad signs Alaric had believed in for all his life could still be trusted, then Ryland stood at a level well beyond most Archmages. Not just at the academy, but maybe in all of Androvia.

In fact, the idea of just an Archmage felt far too limiting to contain whatever in all the Realms Ryland was supposed to be. The real question was whether Alaric wanted someone like that as a part of his academy. Because the very idea of someone like Ryland existing in reality made the deepest recesses of his soul want to scurry away and hide in an undiscoverable corner. He mentally cursed himself. What in the Realms was wrong with him?

Was he actually entertaining his base and instinctual level of fear as a legitimate emotion to drive his thought process? How in the world was he allowing himself to be called the Headmaster? Accursed Calamities.

"Why not be a student, then?" Viren said. He flushed again when both men turned to him, but straightened quickly, pushing his glasses higher up his face.

"As in, a graduate student getting his Archmage degree. The academy has no age limits, right Headmaster?" The idea of an age limit for an ancient mage like Ryland was laughable. Especially since the man didn't look a day over thirty at most. Mid-twenties, more like.

"I suppose I am seeking research," Ryland said, warming to the idea. They both turned to Alaric. Right. The decision was entirely up to him. Did he want a potential catastrophe enrolling in Arcoryx Academy? Did he want someone who was possibly no less dangerous than a Calamity as a student of all things? Alaric mentally wrung his own neck. Why couldn't he think straight? Of course Ryland wasn't a Calamity or anything close.

The thought was ridiculous, borne from the sheer impossibility that all those warnings going on high-alert simultaneously had given rise to. Alaric really, really needed to get a grip.

"Your hesitation is understandable, Headmaster," Ryland said.

"And I understand if you'd rather not allow me back in. In that case, I will simply acquire what I seek via other means." And there it was, wasn't it? The bottom line of the matter. If all the warnings were to be believed, then there wasn't much Alaric could do to stop Ryland. Because what the man had stated was— True, said Alaric's Glyph of Truth.

"Then you also understand," Alaric said.

"That it is a matter of trust. Because you wouldn't be a typical student."

"Indeed," Ryland said.

"You would be initiating less a new student and more a potential… disaster, even though I am ostensibly here to prevent exactly that." And he took another bite of his roll. How was it not done yet?

"I trust Ryland," Viren said loudly. This time, he didn't even bother flushing when all the attention turned to him.

"And it's not just because he saved me and my kitten. I might be biased, but I've seen how he acts, Headmaster. He always makes sure to be careful about everything. He's always deliberate and thoughtful. He even turned down his Inscriptions before entering the city." Ryland turned to Viren with a surprised blink.

"You noticed that?" Viren grinned back.

"I told you, sir, I'm teaching Tallow to recognize magic. He tells me everything he sees." A little orange cat with glowing eyes popped its head from under Viren's robe. It caught sight of Alaric and then yowled before sinking back inside. He sighed. He had never understood why cats had a thing against him. But he turned back to Ryland with a sinking sensation in his heart.

If this man had suppressed himself before entering the city, and everything was still warning Alaric about the end times, then what in the name of all the Calamities was he capable of in his true state? What in the world even was he? Alaric's throat threatened to clog up, but he quickly mastered himself. He was the Headmaster for crying out loud. In the end, it was practicality that won. If he turned Ryland down, that wasn't going to stop someone like him from attaining what he sought.

Rather, it might even put them at odds. And that was a headache Alaric would really prefer to avoid. As such, it was much better to incorporate Ryland into Arcoryx and keep a closer eye on him. Keep your friends close, keep your potentially cataclysmic enemies closer, after all.

"You understand I can't simply take you at your word for all this, yes?" Alaric said.

"I will need to verify everything myself." Ryland nodded his head in understanding.

"Of course, Headmaster. I've already had to do so twice. I believe I'm growing rather adept at the process." Viren coughed into his hand. Alaric blinked. Right. The man hadn't just appeared at the academy. Even if Ryland had been on Vyrd for merely a day, Alaric figured there was already a lot he could dig into.

"Fine, I'll allow it," he said eventually, trying to feel less like he was making a terrible concession and more like he was making a tactical decision.

"You may join the graduate student body at Arcoryx. But there are two conditions you must follow."

"Name them, Headmaster," Ryland said. Alaric didn't like how easily he had stated that.

"First, I need you to maintain the low profile that you've maintained so far." Ryland frowned ever so slightly at that, but didn't argue, so Alaric continued.

"And second, if you must return to Arcoryx, then you'll do so as any other graduate student candidate—via the Entrance Trials."