“Fire lives in the death of earth, air lives in the death of fire, water lives in the death of air, and earth in the death of water.”

- Heraclitus

Zygmund von Nordmark looked up from the tome he was perusing. Around him stood several wights painstakingly raised from the family crypts. His own lacking talents in necromancy were barely enough to control and raise the simpler undead, skeletons, and corpsefiends and even those were, to put it bluntly, lacking.

“You have to concentrate.” An accent-laden voice sounded from his right. Turning his balefully glowing eyes he saw the frost elven necromancer, a young elf with scars marring his otherwise pretty features and hands marked by frostbite.

“Ivyander, you begin to seriously annoy me. Don’t test my patience!” His voice sounded dry like sandpaper and he laboriously cleared his throat. Grabbing the goblet containing blood from some dissident or other he began to drink and then realized it had coagulated and was no longer palatable. “Bah.” He spat. “Why didn’t you warn me?” His eyes flared.

“Did you or did you not want me to talk? I was trying to get your attention for the last minutes!” Ivyander the frost-elven necromancer scolded back.

The wights in the old armor of the Nordmark house, rusted but still intact because of fading magics slowly shifted their weight and looked at their quarreling masters. Dead eyes gazed at them with unfathomable intention. The cavernous cellar they were standing in had once been a torture chamber with adjoining cells, very useful for keeping experimental subjects as the duke of Nordmark had found.

Old blood crusted the ground and a rough altar made of fieldstone dominated the middle. The runes and glyphs carved into the sides looked crude but functional as the young elf was nowhere near the facility of a trained magician. He had talent and he had power and what he had most was desperation. That and fear. But he was good at controlling his features so he did not show his unease and covered up the shaking of his hands with scolding.

“Bah. You, a mere mortal wants to teach me? I learn more in my dreams from watching the goddess!”

“That might be the case but a little bit of foundational knowledge will go a long way.” Sighing he changed the subject, “What about your relatives? Is there anyone you would think suitable for training?”

“Mh. Mathilde might be loyal enough. Ernest...no….Jamila- With some insurance...perhaps.” The vampire mused. “Yes, you are right, my family should share in the glory. Let’s call them back to bind or turn them. Yes, I think that might be best.”

He exerted his will and formed symbols with his right hand gathering necrotic power that had long seeped into the stones of this place of pain and suffering. A skeleton meticulously prepared by the young elf twitched and darkness flowed over the white bones before a faint green light lit in the empty sockets and the whole cadaver rose on shaky legs held by the memory of tendons and dark magic. Grinning, Zygmund turned to the necromancer for approval who swallowed the words of scolding he really wanted to say, “Yes, very good.”

‘Wasteful, slow, if there were no abundance of void mana he would not even get a skeleton to walk.’ The young elf was highly frustrated. If he could only be free of the oaths and obligations put on his kind!

The coach was slowing down and Mireille leaned toward the window stretching her legs and arms carefully. She had mostly been sleeping and the small elemental heater that Lieseleta had gifted Alea had played a large part in making the journey more comfortable. Outside a light snow fell and was mostly captured by the barren branches of the great trees lining the road. But soon the light changed as the trees withdrew on both sides making way for a large clearing leading to a shallow hill on top of which stood a large, blocky building. Old partly damaged walls circled the base.

The old structure seemed empty and silence reigned as the students finally reached their destination. It was square rising up to three stories. The roof was slanted to the outside but with all the snow it was hard to make out details like color. It seemed to be made of black slate which could be found in the nearby hills. The walls were cut stone with woodwork in the upper two stories. Shutters made from local oak protected windows that began on the second story, the ground floor only sported some arrow slits.

“This looks more like a fort than a building for school training?” Mireille rubbed at the misted inside of the window inset in the coach's door.

“That might be because it was one.” Alyssa grinned.

“How do you know?”

“It’s been told to us in the last preparatory class...but you were less than attentive if I remember right.” Alyssa grinned.

Iseret nodded, “It’s been a border fort against the depredations of the wolf-tribe. But after the treaty of 539 and the marriage of the baron of Nordstrom with one of the tribe's holy daughters it has been mostly monsters that troubled this part of Margrinar.”

“That sounds like it was quite the story?” Mireille’s eyes lit up.

“I read about it while preparing for this journey.” Iseret defended herself holding up both hands. “Perhaps when there is some time after we have settled in.”

“Mpf. We had days! Days! Why tell me about it now?”

“I did not think that it was that interesting?”

“It wasn’t until you mentioned holy daughters and wolf tribes.” Mireille grinned.

“What’s so interesting about that?” Alea inquired.

“It sounds like a fairy tale!”

Alea raised a solitary eyebrow, half hidden beneath her blindfold which made the whole action much less impressive.

The carriage slowed down and came to a stop. Shortly afterward they picked up speed again entering a narrow entranceway into an inner courtyard. There was barely enough room to fit all the coaches, and the horses were quickly brought into the stable. Exiting they were very glad for the warm clothes as their breath steamed in the frosty air and ears and noses became tinged in red.

Reneus Flammensiegel stood before them, his slender form was swaddled in a seemingly overlarge dark green coat, his hands nearly vanished into his sleeves and he still had his three-day stubble and shoulder-length dark blonde hair. He showed a resigned expression as he clapped thrice. The murmuring and low chatter slowly ceased. “We are at Fort Wolfsbane and here we will stay for the next weeks. You will be separated into different groups and then with the aid of a teacher and a scout of the army you will first learn about the wilderness and the dangers it holds. After two weeks of this, there will be a test. Today you will have time to settle in while tomorrow will be the assignment of groups. So, with that said follow the servants they know where you will be lodging. Questions can better be answered at dinner so bear with me until then.”

Walking briskly several students followed their servants to the steps leading up to a large portal with a wolf's head carved into the stones above. Their voices echoed in the dark corridor behind the doors. Empty scones lined the walls but soon enough one or two of the students showed their expertise and light spells flared bobbing along with the flow of people.

“Let’s get inside.” Mireille urged her friends while rubbing her hands before jamming them beneath her armpit while stamping her feet. “Coooold!”

“Your coat should take care of that, lets's have a look around while everyone else crowds the corridors.” Alyssa looked at the surrounding walls and courtyard. A statue loomed over a stone basin filled with ice and snow. It seemed to be a woman with a crown bent over and cradling an eagle surrounded by flames.

“That’s the phoenix queen.” Alea smiled. “She was one of my favorites when I learned the history of Allisair.”

“Isn’t she one of two women to hold the crown? If Lieseleta manages she would be the third.” Alyssa remarked and inspected the statue with interest. “If I remember right she married into the royal family and after the death of the king became queen until her son came of age. She did a good job as far as I know.” Alyssa brushed some snow from the statue's face but weather and time had long since worn away most distinguishing features.

“That’s right. And the Nordmark's were the branch of her family that survived the drowning of Allisair.”

“And now they are scumbags.” Mireille kicked a stone into the basin.

“Maximilian and I are also descended from them,” Alea remarked dryly.

“Sorry!” Mireille did not look very remorseful as she said that but quickly continued asking, “Why is she called Phoenix Queen?”

“She was blessed by Saressa, goddess of fire and inspiration, also called the phoenix that renews itself and was the premiere firemage of the age of exploration. She invented and refined several spells that are still in use today.” Alea lectured.

Iseret looked interested but did not interrupt.

Lorelle stood patiently beside the luggage while Adam was still unloading the vehicle with the help of Butler One.

The large doors leading into the stables shed golden light on the snow and the girls heard the sound of voices and horses snorting. The stream of students became a trickle as they explored the utilitarian yard and then entered the house themselves.

Their rooms were small four-person affairs with two bunk beds each. Small open windows without the luxury of glass panes let cold air into the chambers and only iron plates inset into chimneys built into the walls gave off some warmth.

“We should do something about those windows otherwise I might freeze to death in the night.” Mireille eyed the construction dubiously.

“I will see what I can do.” Alea nodded while she inspected the windowsill.

Lorelle, Iseret, and Butler One would be guesting in a nearby chamber while Adam would live in the stables.

Cyrus stretched his wings and hit the walls on both sides. Mireille grinned, “Good thing we have an extra bed or one of us would be crushed beneath our small dragon every night.”

Cyrus preened at the word ‘dragon’ and arched his neck.

“Yes, you are a beautiful dragon.” Mireille petted his head.

“Don’t spoil him too much, we all have to live with him you know?” Alyssa jokingly scolded then gestured toward the door, “I will have a look around until dinner- Is anyone interested in joining me?”

Alea sat on the bed with a book on enchantments opened beside her Cecily looked down at it from her shoulder. Mireille yawned while waving her hand in negation, “No, I’d rather sort my baggage and have a bit of a rest. The coach is awesome and all, but not that comfy.”

Alyssa nodded and went outside. The cold did not bother her much as of late and so she walked along the silent corridors listening to the distant chatter of students settling into their rooms. Soon she reached a circular stairway leading up into one of the corner towers. Ascending the worn and steeply slanted steps she reached a hatch and opening that, reached the roofed top of the tower. Icy winds blasted across the small platform bordered by a stone parapet reaching to the middle of her chest. All around she could see the expanse of the forest mostly barren deciduous trees but also stands of conifer and pine.

Rocky hills rose from the snow-covered woods. On some of them ruins of old buildings, probably watchtowers of one sort or another rose like broken teeth. Looking north the land flattened and began to drop towards a distant river barely visible between the trees. A swarm of crows burst from the shaking treetops as something massive moved between them. Snow fell in great clumps under the scolding of the blackbirds. The sun was slowly setting to the west and Asandria hovered silently beside her and whispered, ‘Just a week's travel and you probably could see the city of broken ivory.’

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold moved along Alyssa’s back. “I still have time. It’s still too early for me to confront her.” Her voice sounded thin in her own ears.

‘Yes. It’s still some time until then.’ Dark gaps where eyes should be, a pale translucent face- Asandria regarded her quietly. ‘But you have come a long way from the girl fleeing into the ruins near Firswending. I…’ She hesitated and did not finish the sentence before she turned again toward the slowly reddening sun.

Together they watched as the sun began to sink beneath the horizon growing into a red ball of fire before then fading away. The wind was a constant murmur sometimes whistling along the corners of the building. The cold now began to bother her more deeply and Alyssa murmured the words for her spell of warmth and sighed in relief as her frozen right hand began to thaw, prickling painfully all the way. “Let us go back. It must be dinnertime already.” Alyssa turned and looked at Asandria.

‘Sometimes I would like you to sing for me again.’ the ghost said musingly.

“And I still owe you. So simply tell me about it.” Alyssa walked back toward the hatch before opening it and descending the stairs once again.

Asandria looked at the still rosy clouds and then floated along behind her charge.