The trio waited for a good hour to regain some energy. Marc could keep going, but it seemed that he was the only one. The other two needed a good rest. Marc was mostly glad the horses didn''t run away.


    “Marc. What was that potion?” Nico asked from behind him. He turned and saw the empty plastic bottle on the ground. With time to examine it, he read the label. The bottle itself was normal, though probably the only plastic in the entire world. The label, however, was not. It read “Potion of Past Steps”, with no logo, then medical usage instructions, the soda’s nutrition facts, ingredients, and finally small text asking for it to be recycled.


    “It looks like a regular soda, why?”


    “Soda is some kind of medicine?”


    “I think it was, but now people just drink it.” he vaguely remembered the fact, though he didn''t know where from.


    “I have drunk poison. That tasted worse.”


    Damn, that bad? If Marc had more, he’d probably have cracked one open to taste it, but unfortunately there were only the two remaining. That said, they were called potions. . .


    “Hey Nico, can you make more of these for me?”


    The alchemist looked at him in the closest thing Marc had ever seen to rage from him. “If they weren’t useful, I’d be saying no right now. Leave one for me to. . . Inspect.”


    At the end of the hour, they started moving. Lloyd was thrown onto the back of the cart so he could try to sleep, while Marc and Nico kept their eyes peeled for the man with the vulture. Unfortunately with the snow falling he had very good camouflage, assuming he didn’t have some other method of either travel or stealth.


    The rest of the day was spent in nervous tension. Nico and Lloyd chugged warming potions every few hours, and eventually Marc had to ask for one a few hours before nightfall. The road was well traveled, but by this point in the trek it was entirely dirt, so they were moving slower than the wanted. The trip from the city to Academy was supposed to two-to-three days long, but it was looking like they’d need a fourth.


    That night, they were far more careful. Lloyd and Marc worked together to hide their camp from view, while Nico set up the trenches ahead of time. They still had to take the risk of lighting a fire, as the snow had not let up, but they’d have a lot more warning next time.


    One weary night led to a tiring third day. They encountered a small pack of the same undead as before along the path, but they were disposed of quickly. Marc had gained even more might from Sightseeker, allowing him to easily hold off the horde. Before noon on the fourth day, they reached Mystle Academy.


    <hr>


    The gates of the academy reminded Marc of the overly ornamented driveway entrances to a McMansion. Or, he supposed, what they were imitating. It was odd to see something so well crafted be neither fake in its quality nor tarnished from decades or centuries of wear.


    There were two guards at the gate in imposing blue robes. One held a shield in with a symbol of crossed wands on it, while the other had a deck of cards in hand. Marc wasn’t sure what exactly to say, but they seemed to recognize Nico, or perhaps they knew that there was a shipment of ink coming in. Whatever the case, the two barely touched the gate as it peeled back from the center in a way metal should not move. Once they were through, it unfurled itself back into place.


    “Magic is weird, Nico.” Marc said. Nico nodded to him, whether in agreement or simply acknowledging he heard it.


    The Academy itself was an interesting mishmash of fantasy castle and modern (to Marc, at least) university. There were large towers like skyscrapers soaring to the clouds, and in between them there were paved walkways with benches where students were writing assignments. People were using magic to throw frisbees back and forth. The library was only kept from flying away due to thick chains wrapping around it, but looked like it stepped (floated?) out of an image search for brutalist buildings.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Their goal, however, was the Alchemists’s Guildhall. The Alchemists could turn the ink into whatever variant needed, and they were being sent to get the Philosopher of the hall as well, and escort her back to Grand Vale for some reason Nico wouldn’t tell them.


    The guildhall was, fitting in with the rest of the academy, strange. In Grand Vale, most buildings were tall wooden structures with sharp angled roofs, the guildhall included, though with far more chimneys. The one at Mystle looked like a cross between a gothic cathedral and an industrial factory. Massive round smokestacks supported by flying buttresses, atop an angular stone building with stained glass portraying. . . some alchemical thing.


    “Nico, are you part of a cult?” Marc asked, mostly in jest.


    “No. The Cult of Philosophy was ejected from the guild decades ago.”


    Marc chose to stay silent as they entered the doors. Unlike at the Slayers or Adventurers, there was no receptionist, just the scent of chemicals and a wide open floor with a number of work stations. There were surprisingly few candles, something Marc had had to get used to, instead most of the room being lit by the sunlight streaming in from the smokestacks above.


    Only a few of the alchemists turned to see someone enter, otherwise being fully absorbed by their study or work. The only person Marc saw not at a work station was an older human in his fifties or sixties. He wore green robes and his red hair was fading to gray at the edges. He was sitting in a chair with a large bag at his side. He was reading a book that, for the first time since Marc had gotten to the Sage lands, had a title he couldn’t read. The man barely looked up, but closed his book upon seeing Nico, a smile widening across his face.


    “Nicolas! How good to see you again. I was hoping you’d be the one sent.” Nico turned and upon recognizing the man, smiled himself.


    “Lord Roen, it is a pleasure to meet you again as well. These two adventurers are my companions, Marc and Lloyd.” He said, far more talkative than Marc had seen him before. Whoever Lord Roen was, he was a friend of Nico’s.


    Roen continued, “We’ll need to catch up. Hilda won’t be out of a reaction for a few hours still, she sent me to tell whoever arrived.” The older human reached into a deep pocket, retrieving what looked like a stone wand.


    Nico nodded, adding, “Alchemy can be that way. I can only imagine how intricate a Philosopher’s experimenting can get. Should we wait here?”


    “No. They trustworthy?” He asked, looking Lloyd up and down.


    “Enough.”


    Roen turned to the two junior adventurers, and began waving the stone wand around him. “Hello, I am Grant Roen, Hierophant. We can wait in my office.” With that, he began chanting, and less than a minute later, the earth swallowed them up.


    They were spat out from the side of a stone, and Nico and Lloyd looked ready to vomit. Marc felt fine, and Grant seemed either used to it or unaffected. Checking his notifications, he saw the reason why.


    EFFECT RESISTED - {SUMMONING SICKNESS} (Primal)


    Successfully resisted effect of Teleportation.


    “Well, that went better than expected,” the Hierophant announced, “And you’re fairly sturdy, aren’t you?” He said to Marc.


    “High Resilience, I guess.” Marc looked around the office, seeing a number of probably magical things, from large crystals to a number of wands and staves positioned around a tree. “Do you know a Pyromancer named Barry by the way?”


    Roen seemed about to laugh at him, “Barry? Barry Roen? My son?”


    “Oh. I, uh, didn’t know his last name.” Roen gave a chuckle, which Marc nervously joined in.


    “Well, they’ll be like that for a few minutes. How was the trip?” He nodded towards the other two, laugh subsiding..


    “A bit stressful. More fighting than I’d like.”


    “Well, flood coming in, im sure more than a few Dire Beasts have sprung up. But, you don’t look worse for wear. Marc, right?”


    “Yeah. It wasn’t Dire Beasts though, some weird zombies. Creepy things.”


    Roen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What kind of Zombies?”


    “They are called Solemn Zombies I think. Real quiet, hard to put down.”


    Nico had at least gotten his legs underneath him by now, adding, “ Their bite causes Silence.”


    The Hierophant closed his eyes in thought.. Lloyd had taken to just sitting on the floor, back against a wall. Marc broke the silence, “And afterwards there was this person with a pet Vulture. All white, right after the Zombies were killed.”


    Roen opened his eyes and looked at Marc. “That means there’s a necromancer in the Sage Lands.” Marc looked to Nico, waiting for his response, while the elf looked to Marc. Roen continued, “And they’re building a horde to attack the Academy. Right in time with the flood.”