Realm of Monsters

Stryg opened his eyes to a white ceiling. He was lying in the softest mat he had ever known. His body felt weak, but there was no pain. He was wearing different clothes, his hide shirt and pants were gone and were replaced with a linen tunic and pants. He sat up and surveyed his surroundings. It was a large sparse room with several more tall mats lined down the wall. A door sat at a corner. Sunlight shined through two large windows across the room. 

Where was he? He tried recalling what had happened. He had been talking with that traitor Karen. Then he had been attacked. He had been so weak, yet he managed to fight back. A small grin crept onto his face, despite all odds he had held his own against the group of them. Everything after was a blur. He did remember some guards came and dragged him away. 

Stryg reached for his uncovered neck, someone had tried to put a collar on him. What happened next… Magic. Mage. The voice had said he was a mage. Could it be true, or had he hallucinated the whole thing, in the hopes of escaping his grim reality. First things first, he needed to get out of this place. 

“I wouldn’t get out of bed just yet if I were you,” a woman said from the doorway.

Stryg’s eyes widened. Her grey hair was bundled up, and she wore a silver necklace with a pearl hanging from the center. Wrinkles danced on her face, as if celebrating life, not the sign of age. But it was the pale red skin and two fangs jutting from her lower lip that caught his attention. 

“You’re an orc,” Stryg stated.

“Yes, Mr. Obvious. But, more importantly I’m a white mage and more relevant to you, I’m the healer who patched you up, so you best listen to me,” Celica said as she walked to him.

“Wait, you healed me?”

“Your wounds, yes. I couldn’t do anything for your daft brain though.” 

Stryg was confused. “But, why? Orcs are goblins’ enemies.”

Celica frowned, “Since, when?”

“Since your people slaughtered my people at the Silent Marshes.” Stryg glared at her. 

He should have been scared of this mage, but the previous night’s fight had drained his last bits of self-restraint.

“That was over 300 years ago. No one is left from that time,” Celica muttered.

“And yet my tribe and so many others still suffer from what the orcs did.”

“Tribe? You… You’re from Vulture Woods?” Celica asked in surprise.

Stryg nodded in silence.

Celica sighed, “It was war. Orcs had been stranded in the cruelest of all Realms, they were fighting for survival.”

Stryg struggled to his feet, “Don’t worry. I understand. The strong take from the weak. The goblins lost the war. Orcs reaped the spoils of war. I hope you understand when the same happens to you.”

Her amber eyes narrowed. “You’re lucky I treat my patients equally, whether they are orcs or goblins. So long as they have the coin, I’ll patch them up.”

“I don’t have any coins.”

“The captain covered your medical fees. Didn’t want a mageborn dying under his watch, especially because it’s his job to keep our trade district safe and all.”

“Mageborn?” So, it hadn’t been a dream. “I’m a mageborn?”

“Yes, now sit down, before you hurt yourself. I may have healed your wounds but it took its toll on your body, you lost a lot of blood. You still haven’t fully recovered. Quite frankly, I’m surprised you can even stand.”

Stryg sat down and looked at his shaking hands. Mageborn. It explained the night vision and frayed rope. He thought there was a chance, but he hadn’t held hope. Didn’t dare think he could be more than what he had been told he was. All the insults he had endured throughout his life flashed through his mind. That he was a freak. That his existence had amounted to nothing, a shame to the tribe. They were wrong. He was more than what he appeared to be. Tears seeped from his eyes as his shoulders shook unrestrained. They were wrong about him.

“You just found out, ey?” Celica shook her head and smiled.

A knock rang at the room’s door. 

“Hope, I’m not interrupting, ma’am,” captain Rorik said. He looked unsure of what exactly was transpiring.

“Not at all. We just have a crybaby over here.” Celica pointed a thumb to Stryg.

Stryg couldn’t find the energy between the tears and shuddering breaths to hiss at her.

“Is the patient fit for travel?” Rorik asked.

“He is still weak, but I think with a little help getting up, he can endure a carriage ride. Now get this ungrateful brat out of here.” Celica waved them away.

“Of course, ma’am.” Rorik hurried to Stryg’s side and offered him a hand.

Stryg reluctantly took it. 

He stopped at the doorway. “What is your name?”

“It’s ‘may I ask your name, my beautiful savior.’ Celica Skeller.” 

Stryg nodded, “Celica Skeller, thank you, for healing me.” 

“You’re damn welcome,” Celica smirked.

He wiped away the last of his tears and made a small bow. 

Rorik led him outside to a waiting carriage tied to two harnessed centaurs. “Our garrison’s own personal carriage. Please, get in.” 

Stryg looked at the drow. The only reason he hadn’t tried running already was because Rorik had brought him to Celica to be healed, so he clearly didn’t want Stryg to die. But, last he checked, the guard had ordered Stryg to be enslaved.

“Where are you taking me? What exactly is going on?” Stryg asked with caution.

Rorik scratched his head, “Right. I have to catch you up. Stryg, right? I am Rorik of house Polamtal, captain of the guard in the trade district.”

“Mm.”

“Well, Stryg, last night you were found to have broken our city’s laws by being an outsider without a nameplate inside our walls. Now normally, the punishment would be to be shackled with a docility collar immediately.”

  Stryg turned to run.

“Wait, wait, wait! We’re not going to do that. Or anything of the sort. Please, just let me explain!” Rorik raised his hands in panic.

Stryg paused. He watched the drow in silence. His legs really needed a rest. He hoped he would have the chance.

Rorik sighed, “Thank you. Last night, when we tried to put the collar on, it failed. Mr. Granby, our garrison’s mage, said it’s because you're a mageborn. Now, Hollow Shade has a very unique rule regarding mageborn, such as yourself. The city will pay for your education at the magic academy, so long as you sign a contract to serve as a mage to the city for ten years, after you graduate. You will be paid of course, during your years of service.”

“So, let me get this straight. If I work for the city for ten years, I get to learn how to become a mage?” Shamans were valued by the tribe; it made sense why mages were the same here. But, the offer they made sounded wonderful. Sure, ten years was a long time, most goblins he knew were killed before the age of thirty. But, if he could learn actual magic, then he’d be able to hold his own, he’d have power for the first time in his life.

“That is correct. It’s my job to ask if you are willing to accept the contract. If so, I will personally escort you until you are settled into the academy.”

“Why are you going so far for me?” Stryg raised an eyebrow.

Rorik pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s not that I particularly want to. But, you are a mageborn, and our city puts a lot of importance on making sure it gets as many magi as it can. Since you have no related affiliates and you were found under my watch, as captain of the guard it is my duty to make sure you are offered the chance to attend Hollow Shade’s magic academy, and all that follows. So, do you accept this contract?” Rorik hoped the boy would say no. The captain had stayed at the clinic all night. He wanted to go home.

“I do.” Stryg nodded with bright lilac eyes.

Shit, of course you do. Rorik made a painful smile and held an arm towards the carriage, “Please, after you.” 

Rorik needed to play nice, it was stupid to try to antagonzie a mage for no reason, even a future one. It would be better to win his favor in hopes of Stryg repaying it later in life.

Stryg jumped up the tall steps leading to the carriage, he refused any help from Rorik. The interior was covered in simple brown leather seats. They were quite soft, though not as soft as the bed, Stryg decided. 

“To the magic academy,” Rorik spoke to the centaurs, before he entered the carriage and sat across from Stryg.

Stryg marveled at the view from the window, he had never been this high. While he had technically climbed taller trees before, he felt this was different. His view was constantly shifting as he watched the people pass by beneath him. It was as if he had become a giant towering over the rest. 

“We’ll first get you tested and enrolled at the academy. Once that’s settled I’ll take you to get your nameplate.” Rorik ticked off the errands on his fingers.

“What’s the exact purpose of a nameplate anyway?” Stryg asked, though his eyes never left the window.

“A nameplate is very important within Hollow Shade. It serves as one’s identity. It’s what lets someone get into the city and wealthier districts. Along with being able to shop at high-end exclusive stores, and various other privileges. Speaking of which, how exactly did you get into the city without a nameplate?”

Stryg frowned, “I was captured by a poacher in Vulture Woods. He dragged me to this place. He was planning to make me a slave and sell me. I escaped before he had the chance.”

Rorik laughed. Stryg glared at him.

Rorik raised his hands, “Sorry, I meant no offense. It's just that had the poacher actually taken you to get a docility collar, he would have realized you were a mageborn and would have been forced to do what I’m doing right now.”

Stryg sat back, stunned. If he hadn’t tried to escape, he wouldn’t have had to suffer? He wouldn’t have met Karen or her gang. He had just made his own situation worse. He had messed up like always. He sighed in frustration.

“Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. At least you didn’t get caught by the sentinels.”

“Sentinels? What are those?”

“They’re bad news for someone like you. They are undead raised by the black magi of the city, tasked with keeping the streets safe. They wear steel masks and black cloaks. They only appear at night, but in the poorer districts they search out for any who don’t have a nameplate and seize them. People who resist are normally put down. You don’t have to worry about that anymore though. We’ll get you a nameplate right after registration.”

Stryg recalled the monsters that had attacked the first night he had arrived. He had been lucky to get away. The humans he had been with were not. “What happens if someone doesn’t have a nameplate in one of the wealthier districts?”

“Huh?”

“You said the sentinels search for people without nameplates in the poorer districts. What about the wealthier districts?”

“Oh, well if someone doesn’t have their nameplate in a wealthier district the sentinels will simply ignore them. After all, the person probably forgot their nameplate at home.”

“But, what about the people in the poorer districts who forgot theirs?”

Rorik shrugged, “The poor can’t afford the same privileges as the rich.”

Stryg grimly understood. The rich were the strong and the poor were the weak. Or he supposed that they were rich because they were strong. It didn’t make much of a difference, the rules of the wild applied here just the same as they did back home. 

“Rorik, what happens if a rich person forgets their nameplate and is caught at night in a poor district?”

“Rich people don’t have any reason to visit poor areas like the commoner district. But if for some reason they did, I imagine the sentinels would leave them be, based on their clothing and other affluent items, such as a fancy carriage.”

“Is this a fancy carriage?”

Rorik chuckled, “Hardly. This is as simple as it gets.”

Stryg sat in thought for a moment. “What if I forget my nameplate at night while being in the commoner district?”

“You would just need to cast a spell and the sentinels would leave you alone I’d guess. Best not to try and prove that theory though.”

So it came down to power again. Stryg needed to learn magic as soon as possible. 

Rorik continued, “Magi are valued everywhere, especially in Hollow Shade. Few people in the world are mageborn, and with all the savage warlords and their tribes that roam Dusk Valley we need magi to help keep the trade roads open and safe, along with all the villages that pay tribute to the city. Most people may see goblins as a below average species-”

“What?” Stryg hadn’t heard of this. Goblins were a proud species. Sure, they were smaller than most, but they were skilled and fierce.

“But,” Rorik lifted his index finger. “You’re a mageborn. Magi can rise high in this world, no matter their background.”

The carriage stopped. Rorik looked outside the window. “We are here.” 

Rorik opened the carriage door and walked out. “Welcome to the scholar district and one of our four first-rate schools, Hollow Shade’s prestigious magic academy.”