He was doing his best to contain the excitement racing through his body. But he practically tore open the ribbon and unfurled the long sheet to get a better look. Roland scanned across the tall sheet, finding it a little hard to work out the wording based on the thin pen strokes and the aged ink.
Nonetheless, Roland found sense in the writing shortly. This wouldn't be his first rodeo reading poorly written information. And with Omega's help, there was always a way to translate these sorts of text.
"Rank 0 & Rank 1 Incantations"
Spark (creates a tiny fire for light or igniting flammable objects and materials.) Frost (generates a small controlled area of cold) Whispering Wind (seals and sends a short message from the caster to another. Distance 5m) Dancing fires ( creates tiny embers to dance, for shedding light and entertaining.) Minor push ( creates a minor shove for small creatures or lightweight objects)
Rank 1 incantations
Luminous shield (creates a protective barrier of light, reducing incoming damage) Bolt ( launches a small bolt of energy to inflict minor damage) Thunderclap (generates a loud clap of thunder, used to scare away minor creatures or disorient fellows.) Tree wall ( from the Earth Raises a wall of thick bark and hardened mud. Used to reduce incoming damage) Breeze ( summons a flowing breeze used to quell small fires and redirect hot air)
Roland read each description clearly with a stern focus. He was still lost in the sheer brilliance of each option, that he wasn't paying attention to the major glaring problem here. He eventually removed his eyes away and beheld Belle again with a question.
"I don't think…Well, I don't know how to cast any spells?" He admitted, a little embarrassed.
Belle didn't look too concerned hearing that; in fact, she almost seemed to have expected that to be the case. She had already placed a smaller, thin book against the top of the raised brass compartment. It was light blue with a grey-boarded outline.
"Here, this is a read tailored for anyone approaching the initiate stages."
Belle stood up and handed Roland the thin book. Afterwards, she placed a hand against her hip and squared her feet in front of him imposingly.
"I suggest you shelve all your other plans k-kid", Belle advised with a haughty expression, and that finger-pointing arrived again.
Roland tried to dodge the ends of her dainty hands. "You're going to poke someone's eyes out doing that. Your little fingers aren't supposed to be used for that." Roland remarked with a playful smile. Belle froze, and her cheeks turned bright red.
"L-L-Listen to me and listen good. You'll have 7 days to learn just a single spell. Failure to do so means you failed the initiate stage. And that means no magic for you. Simple" Her eyes turned serious after she explained that.
Roland understood there was likely a threshold of what was deemed acceptable enough to join the school, 'so a man's core just gets you the forms to fill out.' He amused to himself. Whilst Belle was busy adjusting her clothing. Roland pressed forward with his questions.
"The initiate stage?" Roland rehearsed out loud.
"Mh-hmm." Belle nodded before she continued.
"You have the traditional four ranks.
The first – The initiate stage The second stage – Apprentice Stage (official magus ) Third stage – The Adept Nexus stage Fourth– The Archmagus Stage
"The initiate stage is considered the foundation of learning magic.
You're of the iron rank as well; at the very least, you seem to be physically put together well enough. But I can't gamble on those strange cores…sigh…and so-"
Belle lightly clapped her two hands together and rocked onto her feet
"We just have to see for ourselves then, don't we? Just how special you are, little weird boy.
"Come on, Sir Mynx, I'm feeling thirsty again. Let's see what the wine on these hills tastes like."
Roland watched the little tabby cat gracefully leap off his bed before it casually strolled past him. He kept his eyes pinned on the furred creature, following it right up until it reached the door. His mind was still lost in that scene where he witnessed it talking.
'Maybe it doesn't have anything else to say to me. Or…he just can't be bothered.'
A sudden thought flashed across his mind, and he quickly called out to the back of the girl.
Belle stopped midway and turned around.
"S-sorry, but I have one more thing to ask. Have you come across…something weird before?"
Belles eyes narrowed in response.
"That's a broad and strange question. Care to be a little specific."
"I mean, it's a little difficult to put it into so many words, err-it's about healing or perhaps err-z-zombies-and d-death,"
"Death? What in the world are you going on about kid?" Belle queried with a tinge of annoyance growing against her face.
Roland felt a cold shiver running down his back. He couldn't find the words needed without sounding too crazy or revealing his secret.
"Ahem, let's try this again." He muttered under his breath.
"Do you know of any methods to help, let's say…stop someone you know going crazy or losing control?"
Belle stared at Roland with blank eyes, blinking every so often.
"Like- err-let's say if we're talking hypotheticals! What if err…you wanted to stop someone from turning into a crazed monster every time they had a nightmare. You only had no idea what was happening until you woke up from said nightmare. And then, by the time you realised the transformation was beyond your control, there were almost little to no clues on how you turned into said monster in the first place. Does that make sense? I hope it does because I –"
*SLAM*
The door slammed shut before Roland was given a chance to say anything else.
He scratched the side of his head awkwardly whilst staring dreamily into the empty air.
"Guess that's a no then."
He rolled the scroll back into its keep and tied the ribbon to hold it. Roland scanned his room before hiding the thin book and the scroll underneath his bed.
He stood upright and felt a prickling sensation against the nape of his neck.
Roland tilted his head back and curiously stared at the strangely shaped shadows cast against the corners. He stood very still and waited. The shadow flinched, and Roland creased a warm smile.
"You can come out now… they're gone." Said Roland to the seemingly empty air. A short while later.
The stiff shadow squirmed and broke away into a ghoulish figure, falling head-first from the ceiling. It landed gracefully against its two legs and bowed.
"Young Lord." Said the Willow respectfully.
Roland had been looking forward to the shadowy figure's arrival since the earliest of mornings. Ever since he heard the death knights return, Roland had been practically itching to see him again.
"The thing you said you needed to help me rise to the bronze body rank; when do we start the refining, " He asked the death knight.
The Willow gave a slow nod.
"Give me a few days to brew the potion. We'll attempt the refining process as soon as it's completed.
Roland gleamed from ear to ear. After so long of speculation and dark dreams, his plan was finally taking shape.
'One way or another, I'll be leaving this place soon.'
Roland shared no love loss with the family he inherited. He hardly knew any of them and also didn't interact with them much. It was bad enough that he had multiple targets on his back, just to add to the list of reasons he was leaving this place.
The truth was that Roland had the rest of his life to think about. The sheer opportunities in this new world were endless. Roland was somewhat confident that very little could arise to deter him from his natural desire to live his own life the way he chooses.
"This is good. Although I have one more thing to ask of you… you see, there is a- "
*knock-knock-knock…knock-knock* the sound startled Roland into quiet.
"Young Lord, are you in there?" Roland heard a slightly familiar voice from the other side of the door. Although he struggled to put a name to the face, he lightened his footsteps in a bid to pretend he wasn't here.
A small interval of silence lingered before Roland heard the disgruntled voice again clearing his throat.
"Ok, may-maybe I had it wrong, and didn't recall earlier seeing the young L-Lord entering inside here. But if such is the truth, I can only hope someone delivers the urgent message that the Patriarch is looking for him." His tone didn't nearly sound convincing enough, as he probably thought. But Roland wasn't foolish not to have gotten the clear message.
Surprisingly, the call came from his grandfather. The Patriarch.