Primal Wizardry - A Magic School Progression Fantasy

Chapter 21: Teammates



The final Binding of the Avatar's corruption freed sorcerers, demonkin, fallen orcs and even some forsaken from the whispers of Faust. They could finally walk the Basin without the threat of insanity.

-Tallen Elmheart, On Mages

“Four to five in a group!” Underbrook shouted after Tigereye’s less-than-detailed instructions. “If you aren’t already in a group, come to the front of the room and we will form balanced groups for the day.”

Kole looked at Zale, looking for guidance, and saw her already looking at him, biting her lip in uncertainty.

“So… you know anyone we can use as a third or fourth?”

Zale’s nervousness vanished at Kole’s implied agreement to group with her.

“Well, I’m not exactly popular but my cousin should be around here somewhere. He was going to group with me.”

Cousin? Kole hadn’t seen anyone else with Zale’s distinct features, though he supposed they could be from her mother’s side.

“Zale!” a deep voice shouted from behind, sounding both happy and angry at the same time.

Kole turned and saw a dwarf pushing his way out of the crowd. He was tall for a dwarf, around five feet tall, only half a foot shorter than Kole. He had darker skin than was normal for a dwarf, a dark olive that looked like it wouldn’t immediately burn in the sun, and wore a loose shirt and wide pants, all made of thin linen, and bore no weapons or accessories save a metal weave bracelet.

“Hey, Rakin!” Zale said, waving him over and then teased. “Couldn’t find another group huh?”

He glowered at the jab.

“I didn’t look. Who's your friend? You found us a third?”

“Yeap! This is Kole, he's a wizard and I’ve invited him to Mom’s study group. He’s one of the students who fought that weird incursion in the target range. Kole, this is my cousin Rakinar.”

“Cousin?” Kole asked, very confused at her usage of the word.

“He’s the ward of my mother’s former teammate,” Zale explained.

“That was you?” Rakin asked, reassessing Kole with a once over. “Nice. Zale, You don’t need to give him my life story. Let's go to the front and get assigned a fourth.”

The group made their way towards the front where Underbrook was sorting the magically inclined students, giving each a different color stick to categorize them in some way Kole couldn’t tell from watching. Tigereye did the same for the martial ones, but Kole could tell he was giving red sticks to the more heavily built and armored students and green sticks to the ones with bows. People grew visibly nervous when they saw Kole and Zale approach.

“Well this isn’t going to be super awkward,” Kole whispered, to which Rakin snorted in amusement.

Zale got a red stick, Rakin a green, and Kole a white stick. Most of Underbrook’s charges received white or black, except for a few Kole didn’t recognize from class that had yellow sticks. Most with a yellow or green stick also had another stick.

“Form groups! Try not to have two people of the same color in a group. Red sticks are heavy fighters, while green are light. White sticks are generalist wizards, while black are utility specialists. Yellow are Blessed and orange are primals!”

Kole looked and saw that he, Zale, and Rakin didn’t have orange-colored sticks. He assumed Rakin was a primal as well since Zale had alluded that he’d be in the group.

“Why did he only give us one stick each?” Kole asked his companions.

Rakin spoke up, “They only make public what we wish to make public. The first-year student hardball league opens up next semester and most teams try to keep their specific skills close to the chest. Students that don’t have a team need to disclose any advantage they have so they get picked up by a better group.”

The trio stood talking idly about class as the students mingled around them. They decided they needed someone with a Blessing—preferably a healing one—but no one was exactly jumping to join them. Their initial overture of invitation was all met with about faces and quick retreats and in the end, they resigned themselves to picking up one of the leftovers.

“Hopefully they aren’t a glindock,” Rakin muttered.

“A what?” Kole asked, not familiar with the presumably dwarven curse.

“Oh, nothing,” Rakin evaded. “Let's just hope they pull their weight.”

During the hubbub, Kole caught sight of Gray. He was among the ranks of those who came with a group. He was talking with a tall man with dark skin, clad in plate armor similar to Zale’s in form, but much larger and less brilliant. He had a large sword behind his back, along with a shorter one at his side and a shield.

Two girls stood with the boys, who couldn’t have been any more different. One was a small girl who could best be described as mousy. She had short hair and a round face and chin with a small but pointed nose. She stood with a nervous awareness, her eyes jumping around the room constantly as if expecting something to attack at any moment.

The second girl was—without exaggeration—the most beautiful girl Kole had ever seen. She was athletic, with impractically long brown hair, down to her waist. She looked fit, but not as bulky as most of the martial warriors, and wore leather armor. While most students were wearing cheap but durable clothing provided by the school, her own outfit looked both practical, tasteful, and expensive. While she was beautiful to Kole’s eyes, he felt like there was something else drawing him to her. If he was thinking clearer he may have noticed the effect, but instead, he simply stared. He marveled at her face, the perfect—

“Look’s like your friend found Esme,” Rakin said, breaking Kole from his trance.

Zale let out a sigh.

“Who? What?” Kole said, turning to the pair.

“The girl you’re ogling. She’s a bitch—I mean Esme,” Rakinar said.

Zale cut in, more diplomatically, “She’s Blessed by Esther, some minor demigod of beauty. She’s a part of Gray’s team, along with Mouse and Harold. And she’s not as bad as Rakin makes her out to be.”

“You know them?” Kole asked, his head becoming clearer after he’d turned away, only then noticing that he may have been under the effects of a Blessing.

“Yeah…” Zale started.

“Zale’s sweet on Harold,” Rakin cut in, cheerful at Zale’s expense.

Zale's cheeks started to darken in embarrassment, but instead of turning red, they seemed to drink in the light in the same manner her hair did.

“I—no… it's not like that!” she sputtered, proving to Rakin and Kole that it was very much like that.

“Those three—minus Mouse—grew up in the school's orphanage. We’ve known each other our whole lives.”

“Did I…” Kole began, but Zale shook her head adamantly.

“Up until this year, I hid my heritage. I always wore that bracelet around Edgewater to disguise myself. We used to be friends. Last year we were exploring some of the… restricted areas of the Dahn and my bracelet got dispelled. They didn’t take it well. After they found out, I stopped hiding it. It was more isolating than I expected.”

“Oh,” Kole said, unsure of what else to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Rot’em,” Rakin spat. “Racist fools. She’s better off without them.”

“They didn’t like Rakin at all when he showed up late last year,” Zale added, a little cheer creeping back into her voice.

“Racist fools,” he repeated and the mood lightened.

As they talked, idly now about lighter things, the rest of the groups formed up around them, leaving not a single student to spare.

Underbrook came over to them and gave them a sad shake of his head.

“It looks like you will have to go in as a trio,” he said apologetically.

“It’s alright,” Zale said, putting on a brave face. “It’s better to have two people you can trust than three people you can’t”

“That’s the spirit!”

Underbrook left them and made his way to the front of the room, where he sent a bolt of lightning into the ceiling without warning. The crack echoed in the stone room, and the students reacted in a wide range, from cowering in fear to drawing weapons and turning to the threat.

“Now that I have your attention,” he spoke over the silence that followed his spell. “We can begin.”


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