Wizard's Tower: A LitRPG Adventure Read online

  I turned to look directly at Cothram for the first time since I entered the room. More specifically, I looked down my nose at the man. I could see him instantly tense. Then I ignored him to look at Beth the scribe. "Miss Beth, could you please tell me how many years I have been part of the Adventurers’ Guild?"

  "Sure! Uh…" She flipped pages in her book. Then flipped them faster.

  I took another sip of my tea and watched.

  "Mister—Mister Fargus, it doesn’t say here in my scheduling book. Oh! I bet the answer is in your scroll in the records room. I’ll go get it."

  "No, no." I waved for her to stay seated, then turned to look at the guildmaster. If Cothram was here as the pressure, then the guildmaster was the one directing it. "Two hundred years."

  All seemed shocked. Cothram’s eyes bulged, Xi took in a deep breath, and Beth dropped her book.

  "I’ve worked for and with the Adventurers’ Guild for two hundred years. I could have been the guildmaster for the entire Kingdom ten times over. As for you…" I turned to look directly into Cothram’s eyes. His previous air of confidence was no longer present. "No doubt you believe that your level and status mean you could place a knife between my ribs before I could stop you. And maybe you could. What you could not do is stop the spellcraft I’ve placed on myself, which will cause an earthquake to wipe this entire city from the map—starting with this very building—should I die."

  I let silence follow my statement as I engaged in an impromptu staring contest with the man. I was bluffing, without a doubt. I had no such spellwork on me and wasn’t irresponsible enough to do so. This man, though, wouldn’t know that, and unless his mystery second class was a higher Tier than my own, he would never be able to tell.

  With a clearly nervous voice, the guildmaster broke the ensuing silence. "I—I don’t think there will be any problems with your retirement. It’s certainly the least we could do for you."

  "By tomorrow." I clarified.

  "Tomorrow," he agreed quickly, his head shaking up and down a little more than was needed.

  I nodded once, set my teacup down, and left them sitting as I departed. I could have spared a witty remark to remember me by, but I just didn’t have the desire. And your couch is lumpy might not sting him as it would have me.

  It wasn’t a good feeling for me, having to draw upon an arrogance I didn’t feel to reach my desires. I didn’t like threatening people, least of all ignorant, prideful men. The whole conversation left me feeling exhausted. Just another reason I avoided the schemes and politics of humans. They too readily forgot what I had already done on their behalf. Or perhaps I was making excuses, and my anger wasn’t as spent as I thought it was.

  It wasn’t until I stepped outside that I realized I should have used that moment to push for more funding for Ram’s funeral arrangement. I briefly considered going back in, but didn’t.

  It was nearly an hour later when I arrived at my next destination, the Arcanum of Elementalus, or Four-Element Wizard Academy, as lowborn called it. The Arcanum I’d helped to found was a collection of four buildings and two towers. The primary building, for administrative staff, was a domelike two-story with a walkway adorned by pillars. Behind it stood a large three-story dormitory with windows for each room, an expense I’d originally protested but now supported. To either side of the administrative building were two-story circular buildings housing our lecture halls. Behind them, two five-story, dome-topped towers stood tall among the other city buildings, their dark blue stone shingles making a perfectly matching counterpoint to the light blue of nearly every building in the city.

  While I would need to gather my secret research projects and materials from my floor in the research tower, my first stop would be to discuss the withdrawal from my position with the school’s administration. Mostly because I didn’t want a retirement ceremony put together, least of all from a staff of teachers that barely knew me.

  A brief chat with Mira, the head scribe for the school, led me to a fine chair in front of Scot’s desk. Scot was the head administrator, a teacher, a colleague, and—once—a student of mine. Where Mira was a mousey woman with short gray hair in her sixties, Scot still had the salt-and-pepper color in his hair. Tall and thin, with a younger demeanor even though he was pushing past his fiftieth year. Or so I estimated.

  His office, appropriately named the Dean’s Office—might be that I was unaware of the change in title for the position from head administrator to dean—seemed to be the perfect example of a professional teacher’s. A wall on the right was covered by a bookshelf housing the standard advanced magical books needed for a 3rd Tier magic user. A crystal ball—a magical orb and well-known bane to many magic users’ social aspirations—sat prominently on the corner of his desk. I doubted he felt any pride in its placement, likely having to hide his shame in its presence in order to maintain a façade in the face of ignorant parents. No magic user in his right mind would be found holding or using a crystal ball. The very thought made me want to shudder.

  "Nemon, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?" he asked with an honest smile. I remembered his father had a smile just like it.

  "I will be withdrawing from my responsibilities here in the next few days," I answered him, hoping my tone was pleasant.

  "Withdrawing?" he asked, surprised. It seemed news of Ram’s death hadn’t made it here, or if it had, no one had thought it would lead to this decision.

  To be fair, I’d been here since before the first day of the Academy, and they likely thought of me more as a permanent fixture than anything else. I didn’t doubt the Arcanum would continue to do well in my absence, as I had already pulled back my involvement to only teaching a few more advanced students that helped with my research.

  "Indeed. Tomorrow I will be closing my projects out, to either continue elsewhere or destroy."

  He hesitated. "You weren’t hired by another school, were you? If so, I think we can—"

  "No." I waved away his concern. "This is merely a choice that needs to be made. A wizard of my standing needs to have a tower and spend some time in it, don’t you think?" I wouldn’t work with any of the other academies, no matter how much they paid me. I’d seen what those students came out learning; it was disgusting! And while I spoke the words about the tower as a jest, once they were spoken, I realized that I did want a tower. Inside, I felt just as surprised as Scot looked. And to think, earlier I was considering myself fully self-aware. This ignorance of my own desire must’ve been from my human side.

  After looking surprised, Scot now seemed relieved. "I see, and I think I understand. A wizard’s tower? They are quite rare. Will it be near the city?"

  I shook my head. The kind of research I wanted to do would have kingdom officials watching me closely. Not that it was unethical, but the last time one of my studies had been made public, it led to some noble holding his commoners in cages to be used as experimental fodder. I only learned of it when the Kingdom sent a tax collector for the fine that resulted. Apparently, the villagers lost were worth four hundred gold altogether. It was a disappointing discovery. And why did I have to pay instead of the baron responsible? Because barons are never responsible for things like that, of course.

  "I take it you don’t already have a tower. Do you know where you will settle?"

  I thought about it. If I was leaving here, I wouldn’t be heading north. There was already talk of war, and if it came to that, then a wizard’s tower on the border would be a prime target for either a new fortress or an attack. The eastern coast was also uninteresting to me. While I enjoyed experimenting on the odd ocean creature as much as the next mage, I didn’t think I wanted to be near to more than one of those mysteries at a time. The hot weather of the south was also a deciding factor for me.

  "I’m not certain yet, but I’m thinking of going west."

  "Eistoni? Or beyond?" He raised his eyebrows.

  The Kingdom consisted of five major divided areas, with the capital city of Sena in the very center and one in each of the four cardinal directions. With the exception of the monarch’s lands in the center, each of those four were ruled by a duke, and their ducal province named after the family. Eistoni took up nearly a third of the entire country but held maybe a twentieth of the population. Often the westernmost estates were called the hinterlands because, unlike to the north and south, there were no known competing kingdoms in that direction, only a chain of mountains—and no one knew what was on the other side.

  "Yes, Eistoni most likely. It would be ideal to have a few baronies between my tower and the wilds of the hinterlands, though not close enough for a tax collector to easily find me." While I was joking about the tax collecting, I also wasn’t. I still remembered one king that had tried to tax urinating to fund a better sewer system.

  Scot happily bobbed his head in some kind of gesture of acceptance or agreement. "My father did mention that you were originally from out that way,” he said offhandedly before he began searching for something within his desk drawers.

  He wasn’t aware, but that comment made me freeze. I was from out that way. I had forgotten. I vaguely recalled my human mother having a tower. How could I forget? It would be thoughtless of me not to look into that.

  "Here." He sat up from where he’d been leaning over into a drawer behind his desk. In his outstretched hand rested a shimmering gold crystal. I knew what it was before I even analyzed it.

  [Tower building crystal: Class B] [Insert mana and designate a location to construct]

  "My father had it prepared for you before he passed. I’ve been holding on to it for thirty years." A half-smile crossed Scot’s face as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

  "It’s perfect. Thank you." I smiled back. "Now to the mundane. I’ll expect the accoun
ts I have on file with the school to be closed, with the exception of the orphanage program. I do have a few outstanding debts that will be charged to my accounts, so perhaps in… two years? Yes, two years should be an appropriate time to close them. Any remaining funds can be added to the orphanage program."

  I began listing my more taskworthy desires, and Scot began writing them down in a booklet he’d taken out.

  "We’ve had many good students come to us from that program,” he said. “I doubt the school would discontinue it even if you withdrew your funding. I take it you don’t plan on returning?"

  I shook my head. I did notice the slight look of greed in his eyes. What was I forgetting? Oh!

  "I will be personally keeping my research on constructing a longevity spell."

  That greedy little light went out. Disappointment was quickly hidden away. I should have known. Forty years ago, I had become particularly aggrieved with the way my human colleagues kept dying out on me. Certainly, it had nothing to do with falling in love. I began research into a spellwork that would allow them to live longer, and I made some small progress, but nothing was ever completed. The closest I had reached was a forty-year-old dog, but it kept growing in size until strange growths on its skin and organs turned it into a level 20 [Abomination]. I wasn’t about to risk that occurring to anyone. Especially anyone I cared about.

  It seemed like we were done, but I didn’t want to leave on such a thought. So I tossed the man an idea. "Oh, I will be selling my cottage. It seems like the Arcanum could use a dedicated home to house its dean."

  I wasn’t offering this entirely out of the goodness of my heart. I had several elaborate warding spells guarding my home, some of which I’d forgotten over time. I’d have to search them all out and dispel or disenchant the entire property if it wasn’t purchased by a mage familiar with my spellwork. That the greedy little light in Scot’s eyes came back quickly didn’t cause me to feel any unease about the offer.

  A few more minutes of polite conversation concerning the price I might be asking for it and an agreement to return tomorrow to sign any paperwork concluded our meeting.

  Afterward, I took a moment to stand in the courtyard between the administrative building and the dormitory, thinking to finalize my feelings on the Arcanum with one last good look. I considered my emotions and realized I actually felt a little relief about the matter. No longer would I need to feel responsible for its success or protecting its students from the more powerful dangers. With a light step, I took the pathways to lead me back home to my cottage.

  3

  I was startled awake to the sounds and smells of Nisto cooking breakfast. My back ached from having fallen asleep at my table yesterday, face pressed into a book. I furtively closed it and tucked it away. Of all the literature I owned, this one was more precious to me than any others by far. I had written many tomes, from research journals to instructional guides, but only one like this one. I’d noticed that many powerful humans engaged in the practice of writing their own biographies to detail their adventures and experiences. Not I. My tome was almost the reverse of this, as each section in it was dedicated solely to my memories and experiences with one of the many people in my life who were gone. Sometimes I mockingly called it the “Book of the Dead,” a dismissal of the arrogant titles necromancers gave their tomes. When I returned yesterday afternoon, I’d taken a few bites of an excellent roasted pheasant Nisto cooked for dinner before becoming involved entirely in recording my recollections of Ram. It was, to some extent, both a cathartic and obsessive habit.

  The smell of breakfast sausage sizzling kept me from completing my entry at the moment. I preferred solitude when I wrote of the departed, as it better enabled me to fully picture the moments in time I recalled as I wrote. With breakfast imminent, I considered the things I needed to do today. Nisto indicated that the [Wagoneers] would be arriving this morning, and I imagined my retired adventurer token would be delivered early as well. I needed to return to the Academy, visit the bank, and attend to the orphanage. A quick trip to the market to ensure that I traveled with everything I needed—no. Nisto would take care of that for me; all I needed to do was prepare a list, which I could do easily.

  Soon, a plate of fried sausage and roasted root vegetables appeared before me. A steaming cup of Asrid Flower tea sat beside it. Nisto took away last evening’s leftovers, including the plate I’d accidentally overlooked this morning. Halfway through my meal, a ruckus outside followed by a knock at the door signaled the arrival of the [Wagoneers]. I continued to eat as Nisto answered and brought the man to stand before my table. I knew I should have taken the time to wash and change. No doubt my hair was a mess. Regardless, I offered the man a seat using my hand to gesture as I continued to chew.

  "I’d prefer ta stand, milord," he answered. He stood ramrod straight and seemed uncomfortable in my presence. Which was understandable, with wizards of the 4th Tier being rare sights. Likely afraid I’d turn him into a frog or some such nonsense. He wore the work clothes one might expect for a tradesman focused on moving things and possessed a bulkiness to his form that suggested a human lifetime of lifting and carrying heavy objects.

  "Suit yourself." I waved my fork around, motioning to the room in general. "I expect packing this won’t take long. I plan to depart tomorrow and will be staying at an inn tonight. I’d prefer my furniture not be damaged, so if your choice is to stack it improperly or use another wagon, I’d suggest you get the other wagon. Also, despite my superior use of our language, please keep in mind I am not part of the nobility. I do not wish to engage in any conversation that would come about should a noble hear such a term be used."

  He nodded, so I felt he understood, and turned my attention back to my food. It was three bites further when I noticed he was still standing there.

  "Uh. Um. Uh. Sir…" the man hedged nervously.

  "Yes?" I asked, after I chewed and swallowed, of course.

  "My L—sir, we haven’t yet ta discuss where we’re taking yer stuff or how much it’ll be." He followed his statement with a glance to Nisto, a look that seemed to be some kind of plea for help. How was this difficult? If you had a question, you just asked!

  "Certainly. I will be headed first to Eiston in Eistoni, and then further into Larkley. I plan to stop in Lark to decide where to head from there. I assume distance and time are a factor of your charging rate?"

  The man gulped and nodded. "Aye, sir. It looks like we could use three large wagons, with fourteen men to move your goods—"

  "Great! It sounds like you know what you’re doing. I’m glad to hear that. I’ll be meeting you at the western gate tomorrow morning, just after sunrise. Please also prepare me a carriage to ride in."

  The man didn’t seem perturbed I’d interrupted him, but I wanted to get started on the things I planned to do today. The longer we conversed, the less time both he and I had left in the day to work.

  Finished with my heavy breakfast, I headed to my room. A quick clean and a change into a silken yellow robe with white trim had me ready for the day. It didn’t go as well with my hair and beard as the dark green from yesterday, but brighter colors did tend to distract from my orange eyes. I’d yet to meet a human with my eye color. I passed by the [Laborers] moving furniture and stopped only to quickly write the shopping list for Nisto before I went on my way.

  The morning still held the chill of yesterday but lacked any breeze. This allowed me to enjoy the warmth of the sun on my back as I walked. By the time I’d made it to the Academy, my full stomach felt lighter. Inside, I met with Scot to sign over the assorted documents he had prepared, and was surprised afterward when he motioned for me to follow. In the courtyard outside awaited two students. Or rather, one student and a recent graduate, both bowing formally to us as we walked to meet them.