The alchemical reagents mixed together, the liquid slowly seeping into the dull black rock. A point of criticality was reached, and Hakara stepped back, raising the shield in front of herself. Thick white bubbles started to form on the surface, along with a wisp of steam. If her calculations were right, then soon it should…

A drowsy sound came from behind her, as sheets rustled. ‘Whasat? Smells kinda burning.’

The rock started to hiss now, violently starting to fragment. What had she gotten wrong? It was emitting light now, enough heat that she could feel the small room getting warm and stuffy, an acrid scent overpowering that of books and overly-laundered clothing. She stuck her hand around the shield, then hissed in pain as several fragments of burning hot stone peppered her flesh, before she could complete her spell, a ray of frost shooting out, the stone suddenly getting a coating of ice. This quickly started to melt, a puddle of bubbling and steaming water forming around the stone.

This had the unfortunate side-effect of accelerating the reaction, the stone undergoing a slow-motion explosion, as fragments shot away and ricocheted off the stone walls. There was a yelp from the top bunk, followed by the sound of a muffled impact, a duvet absorbing hopefully most of the impact.

A figure slid out from beneath the sheets, hunkering down behind the shield with Hakara.

‘What is this? Not firestone again?’

Hakara tried to twist behind the shield to make space for the both of them, acutely aware of Sharlan’s naked body pressed against her, trying to keep her senses focused on the hissing, popping stone. She poked a finger around the edge of the shield and sprayed another chilling ray, hoping she was in about the right area.

‘Why are you doing it in here? Go and get a lab. They’ve got shielding and stuff in place, and venting spells so you’re not breathing in weird fumes.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Hey, if it wasn’t for you, I would’ve flunked last year so hard, but I’d rather not get killed by a magical accident, y’know. Find experiments that are less explody, it’s not the best way to wake up!’

They stayed huddled together behind the shield until the hissing and rattling died away, the reaction fading away, pungent smoke billowing out, making them cough and splutter. As soon as it was done, Hakara yelped and moved to the other side of the shield, as the naked form wrapped itself up in a blanket. She looked at the remains of the stone – it had melted into a pile of ashen goop and melted a hole through the metal plate, surrounded by shards of ice and sharp lines of metal, expelled with enough force to stab into the hard wood of the table.

‘What were you trying to do?’ Still wrapped in the sheet, she moved to the shutters and opened them, bright early morning sunlight pouring in, fresh air wafting away the thick fumes of the melted rock.

‘Well, I wanted to see if I could control the reaction with cold. I think that if it can be kept consistently cold, then it would sustain a metastable reaction for sustained periods of time. The smoke should help with memory retention.’

‘And you didn’t get a lab because…?’

‘Um, well… those are for the best students.’

In the morning sunlight, her roommate’s hair burnt a vivid red, the short curls slightly singed at the end from her latest accident with some fire spell or other. The light blazed through the sheet, clearly showing her curves. She leaned out of the window, inhaled deeply, and then threw up with a savage hacking, spluttering sound.

Hakara put the shield down and approached, patting her between the shoulder-blades, before she spat out a thick rope of spittle and responded. ‘The best students… like you? You’re acing this place. The only reason you’re not getting advanced a circle is because you can’t afford it, and the masters are all too focused on politics and stuff to bother actually promoting the competent students. You’re far better than I am, and I’ve been here three years! Hells, I think you’re better than Trebithik, for all that he’s hailed as the “northern star of research” or whatever bollocks they’re calling him these days. Just because he’s got a pretty face, doesn’t stutter and is really good at keeping multiple patrons without pissing them off.’

Hakara flushed at the praise, even as she objected. ‘Senior Trebithik is an excellent researcher though. And he deserves his position.’

‘And you deserve better as well!’ She spat again, before angling herself on the wide ledge, enjoying the morning sun. ‘Fuck, I had too much to drink last night. Where did you go? You vanished as soon as we left the Unicorn.’

‘Um, well…’

‘Don’t tell me you had experiments to do? You can’t always use that as an excuse! And I’d even managed to drag Brenthan out of the library. Thought you two might like to talk. Although he vanished as well.’

Hakara went to the tiny closet they shared – most of the contents were Sharlan’s, with Hakara’s robes and boots all in one corner. Sharlan’s robes were all in bright reds and crimsons, Hakara’s robes being drab and dull blues and greys in comparison, stained and singed from the aftermath of various explosions. She pulled one out and approached.

‘Oh, thanks. Think it’s too early for anyone to be grabbing an eyeful.’ Sharlan dropped the bedsheet before slipping the robe on over her head, Hakara averting her eyes, as Sharlan chuckled. ‘I thought inn-keeper’s daughters were all meant to be bawdy wenches? You barely drink!’

‘Sorry.’

‘Hey, it’s probably sensible, but maybe try relaxing a little more! It’s a festival day today, let’s go out and have some fun.’ She fluffed her hair, tugging it out of the collar of the robe, before picking up her belt from the floor, where she had discarded it when she had gotten in, late last night.

‘But… I have work I need to do! And several library books I need to read.’

Sharlan went and picked one up – almost two inches thick, with a heavy leather cover, a scorch mark still smoking from where a stone fragment had collided with it. As she saw the damage, Hakara winced.

‘Don’t worry, just tell parchment-face it was me. I’m in enough shit with him as it is, another scorch-mark won’t make any difference.’ She flicked it open, riffling through pages until she found something easy to comprehend. ‘Great Wheel planar theory? Bit old-school isn’t it, I thought World Axis was all the rage now, or has it shifted back again? All this stuff is theory-wonk anyway, quite hard to apply.’

Hakara grabbed the book from her hands. ‘I’ve been cross-referencing planar theory and some of the ancient histories, at least the ones that can be read and make any sort of sense. I think there may be advancements within Scarbrek’s dimensional theorem, if it were possible to stabilise and secure the sanctum.’

‘I flunked dimensional theory twice, remember? I only got through with your help on the third try, otherwise I’d have been flunked out of this place entirely, and had to face the disappointment of my parents. And it’s still pretty much…’ She made an exploding gesture with her hands. ‘…gone. So, you’re taking a day off. Before your brain disappears into a dimensional vortex forevermore.’ She picked up a tankard of water and took a long swig, before she grimaced and spat, a chunk of stone splashing to the ground along with the liquid. ‘We’re going to be finding that stuff for weeks, right?’

‘Sorry.’

‘I’m sure it would have been great if it had worked. Now get dressed. And in something nicer than those tatty robes! If you want a patron, at least dress the part. You could probably pull off the whole “I know everything” look quite well, if you tried. You’d make a good court wizard, at least if you ever left the library. Then you could have all the resources you need. Well, unless you blow something up by accident.’

‘That could be dangerous though, I mean… You get politics and things, don’t you? I don’t want to risk that, it sounds complicated.’

‘Well, let’s go to the festival and you can figure out how to get all the stuff you need. I just want to find a nice comfortable adventuring gig, do that for a few years until my parents stop bugging me about following the family business, then maybe settle down in Cormontara, or Per Tolith? They’re recruiting again, get a good signing-on bonus. Anyway, let’s go. Can get some nice fresh food – better than what the canteen here gives!’

The main square was filled with festival stalls and games. The squat buildings of the University loomed above them, covered with runic protections inscribed by generations of students. Phantasmal spirits danced and frolicked outside tents, advertising the skills of those inside – not as disciplined or knowledgeable as a true magus, but such itinerant spellcasters often had strange talents, that could be refined and analysed, to truly advance magical knowledge and lore. The centre of the market square was dominated by the cubic block of the Serpent’s Tomb, a basalt block covered with faded gold runes, the top surmounted by an exquisitely, and somewhat horrifically, carved figure, a human head and torso atop an oversized snake’s tail, six arms holding a variety of weapons. Someone, probably another student, had placed a bucket over the statue’s head, and a pair of white-and-blue striped bloomers were hanging from a stone spear, blowing in the wind like a pennant.

A few of the other students were already up, or, more accurately, hadn’t gone to bed, looking rather bedraggled, their hair and clothing a little wild, their eyes bleary as they sought out food or more drink.

Hakara walked past them and headed for a stall she could see, where books were heaped up on top of a folding table. The ambient magic they radiated was enough to cause a visible haze in the air, although that did indicate a rather casual approach to best-practice storage of magical gear. She approached – as she did so, a form shimmered into being, a squat and scaly form, the size of a short human. Except it was covered with bright red scales, and had a short, stubby tail – one of the dragonfolk? Although they were normally taller and grander.

It coalesced into full existence, clawed and scaled feet digging into the dew-covered grass, and then a long tongue emerged from its muzzle. ‘Customers, yes? Looking to buy? Books of power and wisdom? If you have gold or gems?’

Hakara loved over the covers and spines – even the more mundane ones still had details picked out in gemstones, or in ancient languages she couldn’t even recognise, never-mind read! Her hand reached out to touch one, faded letters proclaiming it to be On the Planes Beyond: Of Concordant Opposition and the Infinite Spire. From the age, it looked to be a first edition!

The creature waved its four-fingered hand, a barrier appearing in the air. ‘Ancient books, wisdom and power. But wisdom comes at a price. Twenty thousand.’

She withdrew her hand as though burned. Twenty thousand! That was more than she would ever be able to afford. Twenty would be a stretch! At least the creature didn’t seem offended, at least as far as Hakara could tell, lidded eyes flickering. ‘Student, yes? Ah, then my wares are limited. Perhaps other stalls might be more suited?’

‘Sorry.’

The tongue flicked out again, as though tasting the air. ‘Perhaps Masai Spellsinger? A soft spot for seekers of knowledge, that one has.’

Hakara stepped back, as the creature shooed her back, clawed fingers carefully re-arranging the books, sweeping off imaginary flecks of dust. Sharlan dragged Hakara away, heading for a cluster of food stalls. Large canteens of soup stirred themselves, arcane energy moving ladles around. Sharlan tossed a coin up, where a shimmering tendril of force plucked it from the air. Two bowls hovered towards her in response, herself and Sharlan both gesturing with their hands to make a spell to catch them.

‘This is on me, Hakara. Least I can do after all the help I’ve had from you. And I know you get distracted and haven’t been eating properly. Eat up, girl, you probably need it.’

‘I’m not that bad!’ She spoke between mouthfuls of food, enjoying the flavours – the magical soup the University provided was thin and flavourless in comparison. This even had meat floating in it, good quality stuff as well! When she was done, she tossed the bowl back into the air, where another tendril caught it, returning it to the centre, where magical forces cleaned it down, ready for reuse.

They started exploring the market – it was starting to get busier, more of the tents and stalls opening up. A blast of fire roared into the sky, a pillar of flame sending out a prickling wave of heat, marking the opening of another stall. Sharlan looked at it for a moment, before letting out a sigh or relief. ‘Phew. Thought that might be my folks. Mum keeps threatening to sort out all the crap they’ve accumulated over the years and sell it off. I think they’re off somewhere again, clearing out a dungeon. Some old elven place.’

‘I’d like to see a ruin like that. Some of their architectural work was amazing, to be still standing after all this time!’

‘Well, become an adventurer then. Then you can go poking around all the old ruins you want. Just try not to get eaten! It pays damn well though, at least if you don’t die. Isn’t there meant to be a place up near where you came from, lost in the woods or something?’

‘I don’t know, it sounds risky, and I don’t know many useful spells. And yes, Ashfall Keep. Although there’s some odd things that happen in the woods, I wouldn’t like to travel there alone, people have vanished before.’

‘Heh, I guess it depends who you vanish with. Hey, why don’t we have a go on that?’ She pointed at a firing range – enchanted targets floated in the air, moving through looping twists and whirls. ‘The prize pot’s not bad. Enough gold to cover half the tuition for a term!’

Hakara took her place in front of the targets, watching their steady looping patterns. The bales of hay behind had been reinforced with more spells, to absorb any attacks that missed. A bell rang, and she started to attack. Two darts of magical energy blasted from her finger, hitting a pair of metal discs with loud “clangs”, before she followed up with a blast of frost, a floating stack of hay turning blue as it was frozen. She kept flinging spells, trying to hit as many targets as possible, until a bell rang.

The stallkeeper looked at what she had hit, then announced her score: ‘320 points!’ That was less than half of the high score.

Then Sharlan took her turn. She settled her feet firmly on the floor, hooked her fingers together and spread her fingers wide.

As soon as the bell rang, flame burst from her fingers and hit multiple targets, setting a bundle of straw on fire. Then she flipped a hand over, three motes of light appearing on her palm, each flying out and striking a different target, sending three metal plates flying backwards, smashing against the straw wall. She flicked her fingers, a spray of viscous liquid shooting onto a plaque on the floor, acid hissing and burning into stone.

Then she settled into a swift and regular rhythm, rays of frost and bolts of acid alternating until her time was done.

‘455 points!’

She raised her fingers in front of her mouth, dramatically blowing on them. ‘It’s all in the wrists. But you really need to practice your combat skills, how did you pass Kithana’s class?’

Hakara grimaced at the memories. ‘A lot of practice, and pretending I hadn’t been hit. I was a mass of bruises afterwards!’

‘Shame that was before we met, could have given you some pointers. You need to stop skipping out on the combat classes, at least learn how to use a staff as something other than a casting implement! If you want to be travelling into dungeons, you need to be able to defend yourself against beasties and ghoulies. At least get a staff that’ll stand up to a few whacks, your current one is great for spells but it’ll shatter as soon you smack anyone with it.’

They drifted away from the firing range, wandering through the rest of the market.