Chapter 119: The Frost Pool Chamber

Stryg followed Lord Elzri Noir into an underground chamber beneath one of the academy’s meditation domes. It was finally time to meet his third and last private teacher. He had yet to train with Elzri, but that time would come later.

Stryg’s training with Vayu had been going smoothly. The dark elf was far more patient than Loh had ever been and whenever Stryg made a mistake Vayu did not chastise him, but simply showed him how to improve. After two weeks, Stryg was finally beginning to create a stable illusion spell. A small feat, sure, but one Stryg was proud of.

The duo walked down a long winding set of stone steps until they reached an iron door.

Elzri paused and looked back at him, “The teacher you are about to meet will be the most difficult you have encountered. Whatever happens next, remember to keep your emotions in check. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly clear,” Stryg nodded.

“Yes, we’ll see about that.”

Elzri placed his hand over some of the arcane markings on the metal, the magestones embedded on the hinges flared to life and swung open. Stryg’s eyes darted around surveying the chamber as they entered.

It was a large round room with a dome ceiling like the building above. The chamber was also low-lit, with mage stones embedded between stone bricks on the wall, glowing a soft blue. That was where the similarities ended. The entire floor of the chamber was covered in perforated stainless steel plates. Stryg could see rushing water flowing underneath the plates.

“What is this place?” Stryg asked.

“The Frost Pool Chamber.” A black-cloaked figure sat at the other end of the chamber.

“That voice, I know you,” Stryg narrowed his eyes.

The stranger removed the hood and glanced at Elzri, “I see you haven’t told the boy anything about our training, Riri?”

“Sorry, about that. I thought it best if you explained it to him,” Elzri smiled wryly.

“Professor Ismene?” Stryg cocked his head.

His meditation professor from his first year? The old human lady sat cross-legged, just like every class he had ever taken with her. The familiar wooden cane rested above her legs. Her grey hair was tied in a long braid wrapped around the top of her head and held by a long silver hair stick.

“My new teacher is Ismene? Isn’t she more fit for… I don’t know, meditating or something? She can’t even stand on her own,” Stryg whispered.

“The physical state of a mage’s body can hinder their spell-casting, that much is true. So, take a moment to think why despite having such a handicap, Ismene was chosen as your teacher. Once you have figured that out, then take another moment to notice how clearly sound bounces off these walls,” Elzri said calmly.

“What?” Stryg’s eyes widened, “Oh, she can hear me, can’t she?”

“Perfectly,” Ismene pursed her lips.

Stryg cleared his throat and bowed his head, “I look forward to your teachings, master Ismene.”

“I cannot say the same about teaching you,” her beige eyes looked him up and down.

Stryg frowned in confusion.

“Let me make this clear. You were a terrible student. You failed spectacularly with meditation and you barely passed my class. I would never want to train you, I still don’t. The only reason I am here is that I owe Riri a favor,” Isemene said coldly.

“Guilty as charged,” Elzri shrugged with a smile. “Well, then, I’ll let you two get acquainted. Always a pleasure, Ismene.”

The principal closed the iron door behind him, leaving Stryg and Ismene alone.

“Well, what are you waiting for, child? Take off your shoes and get over here, let me get a good look at you,” she waved him over.

Stryg nodded and removed his boots and socks. He wiggled his toes, happy to be able to feel the ground beneath him. He stepped off the brick entrance and took his first step onto the steel plates. They were cold to the touch and a tad humid. To his relief, they were quite sturdy and did not move in the slightest under his above average weight.

“I’m waiting.” Ismene tapped her cane on the metal floor, the harsh sound echoing clearly throughout the chamber.

“Right,” Stryg jogged over.

A torrent of water surged from beneath his feet and blasted him ten feet off the ground.

~~~

Elzri was humming a faint tune when his granddaughter came running.

“Where is he?” Loh asked with bated breath.

“You’re too old for this. When opening a conversation with a question do not use a pronoun, otherwise, how will the recipient party have any idea who you are referring to?” Elzri walked past her.

She turned around and kept pace with him, “You know who I am talking about.”

“I assure you, I do not.”

She groaned, “Where is my apprentice? Where is Stryg?”

“Oh, is that who you were referring to? Stryg is with his new chromatic blue teacher, Ismene, of course.”

“Wait, you left him with Ismene?”

“Is that not what I just said?”

“You left him alone? On his first day?”

“Ismene is his new teacher, they are bound to spend plenty of time alone. What difference does it make if it happens on the first day or the second? As I recall, you had no problem with Vayu training Stryg without any supervision.”

“Vayu isn’t the fucking Tempest Archmage!”

“Technically, neither is Ismene. She turned down the title of archmage.”

“You think that makes her any less powerful!?”

“Obviously not. That would be ridiculous.”

Loh groaned, “What is wrong with you? This isn’t some first-year meditation course. Ismene is actually training him. She won’t hold back. Gods, she’ll eat him alive.”

Loh turned around.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Ismene hates being interrupted. Do you really want to anger her?” Elzri asked.

Loh paled at the thought. If there was one person she feared more than her grandfather it was Ismene.

Loh looked over at the meditation dome in the distance, “Please, be safe.”

~~~

Stryg’s body slammed to the floor with a wet slap. His body was soaked and freezing cold. The water beneath the steel plates was far below freezing. No wonder the water was kept in rushing motion.

“Ugh,” he moaned.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Stop lying on the ground like a vagabond,” Ismene called out with a slight cheer to her voice.

Stryg glared at the old woman. This had to be some sort of test. With one swift motion, he kicked himself to his feet and dashed towards her. A large wave of water rose from the floor and swept him away, knocking him into the wall.

“Is that really your best attempt at getting over here? Pathetic,” Ismene said from across the room.

Stryg shook his head, water droplets flying all about. “Not even close.”

He took a deep breath and called forth orange mana from within his heart. His veins darkened as his muscles constricted. He kicked off the wall and ran at Ismene. As expected another large wave rose to meet him. Stryg darted to the right, circumventing the wave entirely. A small whip of water shot out from beneath him and slammed into his ankles.

Stryg shouted in surprise as he face-planted into the steel plates. Another rush of water blasted him away back towards the door.

“I see Loh has been teaching you agility magic. Clearly, she has been wasting her time on you. Pity,” Ismene shook her head.

“Shut up!” Stryg slammed his hands together, his shadow darkened and wrapped around him. Black tendrils warped away from him and began to crawl through the walls engulfing half the chamber in darkness.

Ismene raised an eyebrow as the shadows threatened to overtake the entire chamber. A wave of water erupted from all around her and tore away at the fragile shadows. She flicked her hand, the aquatic wall pushed forward and struck at Stryg’s direction.

The shadows died in an instant, revealing Stryg within, standing with open palms thrusting forward. He shouted in anger, a blaze of fire responded from his hands. The pillar of fire shot out and evaporated a hole through the aquatic wall. Ismene raised her hand, a spiraling torrent of water surged around her to meet the attack.

The flames and water collided in an explosion of magic. The spells curved through the chamber. The entire room was alight with an orange glow. The cold water screeched as it vaporized into the air. The flames roared a deep guttural sound as they sputtered out of existence.

Stryg could feel the orange mana quickly burn through his veins, his arms felt like they were blistering from the inside. He groaned from the effort of the spell, his whole beginning to tremble from the strain. The orange mana within his heart fizzled out, the last of his reserves gone. The flame spell died in front of his eyes, the pillar of water falling down right on him. His body crashed into the metal plates.

Stryg coughed up water, too exhausted and in pain to get up. The harsh sound of Ismene’s cane hitting the steel plates rang through the chamber.

“Get up, child, I don’t have all day. I have classes to teach, with students far more important than you.”

Stryg stayed on the ground, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. His body temperature had dropped from the constant attacks of freezing water. He shivered, the cold beginning to set into his bones. The only heat he felt was from the burning of his mana.

“Tsk, tsk. So this is what Loh’s apprentice amounts to? A sputtering idiot who can’t even stand on his own two feet. We still have half an hour. I suggest you get up before I spend the rest of the time smacking your sorry ass around.”

Stryg groaned but couldn’t find the strength to get up. His whole body ached and refused to answer his commands. His mind was exhausted from the spell-casting, his will reduced to a small ember. He couldn’t win this.

“So be it,” Ismene said light-heartedly.

A large arm of water rose from beneath Stryg and wrapped around him. He tried struggling but the giant fingers closed tightly. It lifted him up high towards the ceiling before flinging him to the ground. His vision blacked out for a moment as his head smashed into the steel plates, leaving an indent.

The arm dissolved into a rain of cold water above him. He blinked over and over, trying to see, but the gushing water did not stop, it pushed down on him, keeping him from moving. He barely managed a groan as his face was driven into the metal plate.

He couldn’t stop this, Isemene was too powerful. He couldn’t even stand let alone spell-cast. He had failed, again. That was all he ever amounted to, a constant failure. And now he was going to drown.

His blurred vision caught sight of the silver bracelet wrapped around his wrist. The amethyst shook as the cold water pelted down on him.

It was Loh’s gift to him, the representation of their bond as apprentice and master. She had believed in him when others had not.

You’re one in a million, kid, Loh’s words echoed in his mind.

It didn’t matter if his spells or skills weren’t enough. It didn’t matter if the Blood Fang believed he was odd. It didn’t matter if Ismene believed he was useless. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t believe in himself. Loh believed in him. And for that brief moment, it was enough.

His will roared to life, the embers of resolve burned bright. Blue mana coursed through his arms and into his cold fingertips. He welcomed the painful heat, it gave him a feeling in his numb body.

Stryg screamed a hoarse shout in defiance. The pelting water shivered, the torrent of water shook in waves as the droplets began to go against one another. The droplets of water rose until it formed a small dome above him, blocking the torrent above.

His arms shook from the exertion, his breath was short, his vision faint. Some addled part of his mind registered footsteps drawing close.

Ismene looked down at him, a curious gleam in her eyes, “Finally, you spell-cast without anger, still emotion-based, but I suppose it is a start.”

Stryg’s vision darkened and his mind fell into sweet oblivion.