Lament of a Noble Born

 

The Second War was officially over.

Technically, it had been decided some time before, during the battle of Lordaeron. But now, it was firmly decided.

Aduin Lothar was slain in battle. Turalyon captured Orgim Doomhammer. The Dark Portal was closed. The remaining Orcs were being rounded up into internment camps (concentration camps). The Alliance splintered over this decision. Quel'Thalas had left the moment Lothar died, and Gilneas was leaving to go build a wall. Stromgarde also left, but that didn't really concern me.

Everything was proceeding just like the games. Which means I have, at most, a decade to prepare for Arthas's turn to the dark side and the genocide of the High Elves.

With all that being said, while everything was going according to the story, it was also...not?

Word on the street was that the orcs weren't just being interned, but actively enslaved by the victorious allies. Men being forced into hard labor to rebuild what they had destroyed. The women? They were being taken as, for a lack of better terms, sex slaves. Way I heard it; vast slave auctions were being held in most major cities across the Eastern Kingdoms. Young girls being stripped of everything and sold to the highest bidder. Be they merchants, nobles, common folk. Anyone with a filled coin purse was welcome to partake in the sales.

This, was something I did not expect. Okay, I knew this world would probably not be as clean or sanitized as the games made it out to be. Hard to rate a game 'T for Teen' if you can walk into a brothel filled with topless elf girls or proposition other players for virtual sex in game. American companies have no problem with selling violence to children so the whole total war, genocide talk from before didn't really surprise me. Shock, yes. Surprise, not really.

For American companies, it's fine seeing a man commit genocide against an entire race, but heaven forbid if a woman shows a nipple. Think of the children!

Yes, I expected a bit more nudity and sex in this world. A world where there were no attempts by some corporate manager to sanitize the actions or interactions for the sake of complying with an age requirement. But this was, something completely different. This Azeroth went far beyond just showing the uncensored version of events.

It seemed to go much further than that.

Maybe my upbringing just desensitized me to it? Mom being a whore kind of clued me that sex was quite a bit more common than in the source material. That and the brothels, and the lewd humor, and the openness of it all. But I thought that was just something that came from growing up in, what could best be described as, a red-light district. Kind of expected lots of sex and drugs.

But only in my most debauched dreams would I have ever though the goody too shoes Alliance making sex slaves out of them! Forced labor to rebuild their cities? Sure. I could see that. But outright sex slaves? Never. I needed to keep my eyes out for any more changes. Can’t rely on my preconceptions as much as I thought if things are any more different than the games.

What if these means an early Arthas because of some butterfly effect?

All I could do was live my life as best I could until then. Grow up, grow strong. Hopefully I could do something to save Silvermoon. It might have been a fantasy city in another life, but now it was my home.

I just hope fighting for it doesn't leave me dead.

--

A hand wrapped against my door.

“Syllia, are you awake?” it was Mom.

“Yes Mom,” I replied.

I yawned. What time was it? I shivered from the lack of a blanket covering my body. The light from outside momentarily blinded me. I swore; blinking my eyes in an attempt to get them to adjust.

“Good. I went in a few minutes ago to check on you and I didn't want to wake you so suddenly,” her footsteps creaked against the wooden floor as she walked away. “I wanted to let you know I was making breakfast in a few minutes! I don't want you going to Mentor's Day without eating anything!”

“Okay! Be right out!” I called back.

Right.

Mentor's Day.

The day when mentors would flood daycares, schools, and early learning centers across Silvermoon to try and attract young children to apprentice under them. Basically, career day in my old life. It basically allowed young kids, or parents, to put a foot in the door so to say. To establish an early connection with a mentor before formally seeking an apprenticeship. In short, a really good way to get a leg up on other prospective apprentices.

The catch? You didn't know ahead of time who was going to show up.

It was wholly voluntary. Sure, parents tend to show up to their own kid's Mentor's Day, and the private academies and early learning centers got a lot of attention. But for the places that were located in some of the poorest areas of Silvermoon. Oh, we're shit out of luck.

I heard from one of the older kids that Miss Elma actually has to vet the people before they come in because of a few incidents in the past. The example I heard was that a few years ago some gang tried to recruit kids to become 'alchemists' (drug cooks) or performers (sex workers).
So yeah. I'm in for quite the interesting day.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Ten years on and it was still odd to look at myself. Even more so now that my body was phasing itself out of 'androgynous' to clearly feminine. My features were becoming more defined. My figure, ever so slowly developing. Even my smooth blonde hair was looking better at my shoulders than it ever did cut short.

Didn’t know why I was okay with it a bit longer. Maybe it was because I was getting use to this body? Maybe it was the fact that short hair isn’t, necessarily, considered a feminine thing; since I’ve seen bunch of boys in the class have equally long hair to me and no one calls them ‘girly’ or anything.

I tried not to think about it all that much, since growing up also meant time was moving on; and the doomsday clock ticked ever closer to midnight.

Speaking of time ticking on, the Dark Portal reopened last year. Orcs came through but were quickly pushed back. Eventually, the Dark Portal was sealed again, this time from the other side when the Sons of Lothar, an Alliance group, decided to counter invade the orc's homeworld. They are presumed lost.

Of course I know they aren't. They’re still fighting Ner'zul and his Horde; the expedntion eventually sets up Honor Hold while Turalyon and Alleria go off on a space crusade with some wacky time dilations.

But back to the point, I knew I was living on borrowed time. Rationally I knew that Arthas wasn't just going to roll up with his undead army tomorrow, or even in the next year. I probably still had a decade at least before any of that, but it still sent shivers down my back.

How unlucky would it be for me to die to an undead invasion after being reincarnated? Maybe fate would make me a forsaken to make up for dying twice before my time? I shook my head. No use dwelling on these things right now. Focus on the here and now. Worry about the undead when I have the power to do something about it.

–

When I got to Miss Elma's, adults had already begun to congregate outside. Miss Elma herself was out there with them. Looked like she was grilling some of them if her arm gestures were anything to go by. Some guy tried to get a word in edgewise, only to be cut off by a torrent of accusations, denunciations and other threats.

I ignored it. I had faith she would filter out the odd offensive or illegal individual attempting to sway impressionable minds. Walking in I took my usual seat next to Noly. She wore a colorful green dress. The kind I would normally wear. Actually everyone looked like they were wearing nicer clothes than normal. Dress for success I guess.

Normally, I'd be forced into something similar, a soft blue or bright red dress for example. Mom was always telling me to ‘dress better’. To ‘try wearing more dresses’ like the other girls. But today, I was the one who left home last. So, it was a nice pair of shorts and shirt for me today. Not that I didn’t feel comfortable in such clothes. It was just I was more comfortable in proper shorts.

“I heard that Ranger are coming today!” The redhead was excited. Squirming in her seat excited. She kept going on and on about how she heard rangers were coming today.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Feldin saw two rangers talking with the old lady earlier!”

I have no idea who Feldin is. Then again, I don't know most of the kids here by name. “How'd he know they were rangers?”

“Well, he said they had bows and wore leather armor. Oh! And he heard them say they were from a nearby lodge!”

That actually sounded reasonable. Mentor's Day. Talking to an instructor. Makes sense. If they were rangers.

I moved my little lunch bag under my desk with a swift shove from my leg, “so when are they coming in?”

“He didn't know,” Noly kept smiling, “but they are coming in today!”

I wasn't going to question her. Namely because I didn't want to argue with a ten year old about seeing their heroes in person.

“Do you know what you're going to ask them?”

Her body stilled its jittery motions. “No. I have, like, a million questions I want to ask them but I-” She looked me in the eyes, “what if I come off as stupid. What if they think I'm-” she didn't finish.

Oh boy, hero worship. “Just talk to them like normal and you'll be fine.”

“But what if-”

“Don't over think it Noly.” I smiled, “just be yourself.”

That seemed to build her confidence back up.

A few minutes later, filled with aimless chatting, and Miss Elma came back in. She told us to be on our best behavior. To be respectful for all the mentors coming in today. To mind ourselves and ask proper questions.

Mentor's Day had officially begun.

But I will call it what it really is, Career Day.

First mentor to present was a glass blower. He was an older man; wrinkles, bleached white hair, and needing a pair of spectacles to see properly. Looked physically about eighty or so, meaning he's well into his thousands probably. Wore some pretty basic clothes, so he wasn't from this particular city district, but probably wasn't rolling in the gold. Gave off that 'grandpa' feeling when he talked and from his interactions with the rest of us. He showed off some of his merchandise and talked about the process of creating glass. It involved magic, of course, but not enough for him to be called a mage by elven standards.

Next was a clerk. Not a magisterial clerk, just a run of the mill paper pusher. Dull blue robes, bald, had a perpetual frown. Had this expression that gave the impression that, at any moment, he was prepared to smash his head into a brick wall to end the monotony of his existence. The way he spoke, of the 'joys' of accounting and managing, almost made me want to smash my head in as well.

He was followed by a priestess of the Light. Bright white and gold robes. She looked normal, but quickly came across as a bit of a cultish. She waxed and waned about the glories of the Light. Of how we should all dedicate ourselves in our entirety to the Light. Exaggerated arm gestures followed by more zealotry. The only interesting thing she did was put on a show with Light magic. Honestly by the time she reached her whole 'joining the Holy covenant with the Light’, her stay was starting to wear thin.

I wasn't the only one not amused by this thinly veiled proselytization. Miss Elma pulled her away, saying she had to leave early for something important. From the sounds just outside the room, she must have gotten into a pretty heated argument with the priestess. Lots of swearing. The sudden sound of a slap and a threat to call the guards certainly ended it.

And on and on it went. Blacksmith. Fishmonger. Stable hand. Even a city guard came in. All these people, sans the priestess had one thing in common: they were all low level jobs. The jobs one associates with the lower end of society. People who, while important in the grand scheme of things for the smooth running of society, do not tend to live exciting lives.

Call me petty, but I want to be something more. Okay, sure, the city guards might be a little exciting, but they mostly dealt with common thievery and drunken brawls. I was reborn into a fantasy world! Could I even say I was living my life to the fullest if I didn't at least try for more! Epic adventures. Heroes! A world of constant struggle and change. Why aim to be a nobody when I could be somebody!

Sadly, a lot of paths are blocked off by my societal class. Daughter of a whore. Just the phrase is enough to make potential mentors treat me like a leper. A lot of baggage came with my background. The ones that don't see anything wrong with it aren't really the kind of things I want to do: dancer, escort, or other roguish things.

Did that make me arrogant? Prideful? Dismissive of opportunities just because I thought they were 'beneath' me. Mom probably had more aspirations for herself that didn't involve sleeping with people almost everyday and night. Others probably did too.
But it made me wonder. What was I going to do with my (second) life? Yeah I was only ten, but....

I want to be useful. This was a fantasy world! Who could stand being reincarnated into such a place and just settling for ‘normal’? And I knew what was going to happen. I just couldn't find it in myself to sit by and twiddle my thumbs when I feel like I can make a difference. I could stop the Scourge! Maybe keep the High Elves from ever being exterminated!

But then it all comes back to my limited options....

I don't know how long I sat there debating with myself. All I know is that Noly brought me back to reality.

“Look,” she whispered while tugging my sleeve excitedly.

Sure enough, I looked up to see Miss Elma gesture to a pair of rangers at the front of the room. A man and a woman. They had similar appearances: brown hair, sharp facial features, and slightly tanned skin from all the time outdoors. They wore pretty revealing armor, lots of leather, greenish coloring, and exposed skin. Bows were slung around their arms.

The lady looked quite exposed, wearing nothing more than a tube top, long pants, with shin and elbow guards. The man wasn't off the hook of course, his tummy was also exposed as his compatriot's. Physically, I'd guess they were in their early twenties. Bodies were well maintained with lean muscles not unlike those found on a professional swimmer.

“Now our next mentors are Sylvain and Elyssa Evergreen,” Miss Elma introduced them. “Farstriders who have taken time out of their vacation to speak with us all today about their time in the rangers. Say hello children.”

“Hello,” twenty or so childish voices responded. Unlike the other mentors, the kids seemed to actually mean it.

And who would blame them, they were Farstriders! The closest thing to knights that children in Quel'Thalas had. While the Kingdom did have armored mounted cavalrymen who could claim the title as knight, it just didn't hold the same weight in elven society as it did in the human ones.

“Now I know you all are brimming with questions, but please raise your hand and wait to be called on before asking them.” Why did it look like she was staring at Noly when she said that? She turned back to them, “well then, why don't the two of your properly introduce yourselves.”

The man, Sylvain, took a step forward to talk, but was cut off by his female counterpart.

“Hey kids!” Wow she's loud. “I'm Elyssa. And this is my big brother Sylvain! We've been rangers for the last forty years! We know a lot of stuff, so don't be shy about asking us anything!”

Huh, though they were a couple given the last name. Now that she said it, it definitely explains the similarities.

Slyvain seemed to try and dial back his sister's enthusiasm, “like my sister said, we'll be happy to answer any questions you might have. So just raise your hand if you have a question.”

Noly's hand was in the air before he even finished. To her dismay, she was not picked first.

“How old are you?” some boy in the front row asked. The kid looked kind of pudgy. Didn't remember the name.

“As of last week, we're both sixty three!” Elyssia answered in a peppy tone with a bright smile.

So twins then.

Slyvain pointed to another hand, also not Noly's, a small girl in the back.

“Umm... What do you like most about being a ranger?”

Slyvain answered this one. “Helping people. The rangers do much more than fight trolls. We escort people lost in the Eversong back to their homes, provide first aid to minor injuries where we can, we even serve as impartial mediators for smaller disputes between outlining communities.” I think he realized that most of the kids had no idea what 'impartial mediators' were. “Meaning we help people with problems too small to bring to the magisters. There's far more to being a ranger than learning marksmanship.”
Elyssia said something under her breath. Don't know what it was, but the soft slap behind the head followed by her laughter meant it was probably a joke at his expense.

And on it went. The brother sister team had by far the most questions of any mentor so far today.

Finally, Noly was picked to ask her question.

“How do you become a ranger?”

The sister smiled, but she seemed more subdued now. “Well not just anyone can be a ranger,” wow, her voice toned down drastically. She looked less like an overly excited gerbil and more like a, well, a ranger. “You need training. Me and brother dearest for example, trained for two decades before we were fully inducted. Some train longer. Others get recruited in under a decade.”

“Do you need to know how to use a bow before joining?” Noly asked.

“Not exactly”, Slyvain responded this time. “Like I said earlier, being a ranger is more than using a bow. You need to have the right mindset. You'll be out in the Eversong most of the time. It can be lonely spending weeks away from home. You have your fellow rangers to keep you company but even that has its limits depending on what you're tasked to do.”

“Yeah, your mindset is more important than using a bow!” Elyssia cut in with her peppy voice. “I actually never touch a bow in my life before joining. What's most important is being sure that this is what you actually want to do.”

Noly squirmed in her seat before continuing, “how can I join?”

Ah that was the real question.

The woman smiled, “What's your name?”

“N- Noly”, she stuttered.

“Well Noly, why do you want to be a ranger?”

“Well I-” she stuttered. “I want to be a ranger because I want to help people.”

“But couldn't you join the city guard? Plenty of ways to help people there.”

“It's just....” Noly went quite.

Elyssia walked over to our table. She knelt down to Noly's level, hand on her shoulder, “It's just?”

Noly took a deep breath and looked the ranger in the eyes, “Its just.. I want to be a hero.”

“A hero?”

Noly's form retreated into herself. She slummed down, breaking eye contact, “Rangers help people. All across the kingdom. I know its stupid, but I want to go places and see new people, and save people all over.”

“Hey,” Elyssia tried to cheer Noly up. “I don't think your stupid.”

“Really?”

“Really. You have a big heart. But being a ranger isn't something for everyone.”

Noly began to tear up. Ouch. Being told by your own hero that you should stop-

“But,” she continued, “if you're really sure about this, how about this: my brother and I are staying at the Silvermoon Lodge just outside the city. It's maybe twenty minutes from the central gate. If you're certain that you want to be a ranger, go there with your parents in the next day or so and ask for either Sylvain or myself. We can go from there.”

Noly looked like she was about to burst with excitement. Her sadness was no longer present.

“Y- Yes. I mean, I will, thank you!”

She smiled at Noly's excitement. “No problem kid.”

Okay, I wasn't sold on her before. But that whole exchange was pretty sweet.

Following Noly's question, and little heart to heart, Miss Elma told us to break for lunch and be back within the hour.

–

After lunch, there was yet another gauntlet of forgettable people. Innkeeper. Scribe. Bank clerk. All in all, kind of a let down after the height that was two rangers.

But then, the last pair entered.

They were mages. Not people who use magic, but proper mages!

Both wore bright red robes accented with ember gold threads. The first one’s robe was visibly more elaborate and well-made than the others. He was balding and had a weathered face that told of his advanced age; of course, with elves it's always hard to tell ages. Someone who is over a thousand years old could have the appearance of a twenty year old. To actually ‘look’ old implies he is quite ancient.

His helper, maybe apprentice, looked far younger. He was carrying around some bloated black bag.

Both looked at the class with utter disinterest.

“Alright children. The last mentor coming to speak to us today-”

“Forgive me madam, but I wish to introduce myself if possible.”

Wow. Less than three seconds, and I already understand why some people really don't like magisters.

“Of course. Forgive me, your excellence.“ If Miss Elma was offended by the interruption, she sure didn't show it. But knowing her for years I knew her tells. That wringing of her dress, knuckles going white; oh she was upset.

The man waved her off, “I am Magister Darriel Firebrook. Lesser Magister to Senior Magistrix Shalenn Silversun. This is my attaché, Arcanist Merril. My purpose today is to not only explain the role of the magisters in our kingdom but provide useful aid and guidance to any seeking admission into our order.”

Holy shit. This guy! I actually couldn't tell if he was talking to the only adult in the room, or was just so far up his own ass that he forgot he was talking to literal ten year old's!

“Magic is the birthright of our people,” Firebrook began. Oh boy, we were in for a monologue. “It is through magic that we have built our civilization. Through magic we have tamed this land. It is by wielding magic that we have defended it. But who, I ask you, is most suited for this task? To wield such power and be responsible for tending to the magical needs of our kingdom. That, children, is the task given to us magisters: to care and manage this land. For only we, with our knowledge of the arcane and dutiful foresight, are most fit for this most honored task.”

Wow. Just wow. He sounded like he was giving a force statement rather than anything genuine. His voice held just the right amounts of disinterest with that small dash of moral superiority.

“But to execute this most honored task, there must be magisters. It is for that reason I have come to you today. Know that we are a truly blessed people. For none among the civilized world can reach the heights of magic that we have achieved. Nor can any race hope to see the peaks we have climbed. To facilitate the training of new members of our must august order, I have come to you, at the behest of the King and the Convocation to seek out magical talent, wherever it may lay.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, his attaché approached with a large bag. The magister pulled out a small purple gem, “we shall perform a test of sorts. You will each be given a gem like this. You will channel your mana into it. As much as you can. From its glow, we shall learn if you are suited to joining our honored order.”

Children buzzed about with whispers. The assistant handed out purple crystals to all the children. He held the bag open, and each kid picked out one gem from its contents. When I got mine, I found that it was jagged and had a smoky texture to it.
While asking a class of literal children to channel mana might be a bit too much to ask of other races, for High Elves, it was as simple as breathing. Everyone knew the basics of channeling mana, like how a baby knows how to breathe when they are born. You just know.

Hell even I knew! I channel a little mana into a crystal by my bed to give me light at night, then syphon it away when I want it dark again. Damn things are a little too brittle for my taste though; they always seem to break if I don't pour the smallest amount of mana possible into them. Mom says that I just need to learn to not push all my mana in at once.

I don't think I’m pushing all that much in...

“If you would, children,” he tried to quiet the class down, “please focus on channeling your mana into the crystal. How bright it glows is a general indication of the amount of mana you currently have. This does not mean you cannot grow your reserves with training and further learning, it only shows what your innate predisposition to magic is at this time.”

So if dull, not much magic. If it glows, 'yer a wizard'. Not quite of course, all High Elves can, technically, use magic, but...

Honestly, I was a little nervous. Wait for me to find out I was reincarnated with a body that had the lowest possible mana reserves an elf could have but still be alive! It would be a sufficiently protagonisty thing to be. But if my mana reserves were good, maybe I could learn magic in the future. Well, only one way to find out.

Grasping the crystal firmly in hand, I closed my eyes. It's kind of like when you get a grade in school, you really don't want to see it right away. I'll look after I channeled the mana. With a deep breath I pushed my mana into the crystal.

Crack

I felt something move in my clenched hand. Opening my eyes, I saw that my crystal looked a bit off. Uncurling my fingers, my purple gem fell onto my desk in a dozen chipped pieces.

Oh dear, not again.

To my side, I saw that Noly holding her gem. I could barely see the tiny purple glow in her hands. She noticed my attention and turned to me.

“What's wrong?”

She then saw the broken crystal.

Before I could say anything, her hand shot up

“Mr. Firebrook!”

The magister turned to us and walked over. He looked annoyed by how he was addressed.

“Yes...”

“Silly's gem broke.” she explained plainly

His gaze seemed to borrow into me.

Oh god she's putting me in the spotlight!

“It is no problem. I assumed this might happen,” he gestured to his aid to bring another crystal. He placed it in my palm, “remember you do not need to clench it in your hand. Simply keeping it on your open palm will suffice.”

“Yes si- your excellence” I stopped myself from saying sir. Don't need to piss this guy off any more than I already had.

He gave me a curt nod before returning to the front of the room to converse with his attaché.

I sighed, looking at the smoky purple gem. Alright, try number two. I began to push my mana into the gem. It began to glow-

Crack.

The light was gone, and the gem shattered in my open hand. Just like the last one.

Oh fuck this is not good.

A few other kids had kept watch since the magister left and saw it too.

“Mr. Firerbook!” Noly called out again. Shut up Noly!

Firebrook seemed to groan as he made his way back to our table.

“I believe I was clear when I said to not clench it in your hand? It matters not how hard you grasp it-”

Before I could answer him, Noly spoke up, “but she didn't do that. It glowed really bright for a moment then broke.”

His gaze was no longer thinly veiled disinterest. He seems to genuinely be curious himself, “Is this true young lady?”

“Y- Yes your excellence.” What else could I say?

“We shall see,” he turned to his aid, “bring me the satchel.”

The arcanist brought it over. Firebrook opened one of the zippers and fished out another crystal; placing it in my hand. The whole class was now watching, all of their gems glowed a dim purple. Some brighter than others.

Oh boy did I feel nervous. Deep breaths Syllia.

“You may proceed,” Firebrook watched the gem intently.

Third time’s the charm.

I pushed my mana into the crystal. It was glow-

Crack

And it shattered again. Wow I was going through these really fast. It was reminding me of when Mom was teaching me to not break the ‘light crystals’. Went through five whole boxes of them before I figured out how to not break them.

But the magister didn't seem annoyed anymore. Far from it, he was smiling. Muttering something under his breath, then rifled through the satchel. He pulled out another gem. Unlike the other three, this one was pale blue and had smoother edges than the previous ones.

Firebrook placed it in my palm. “Try this one,” his voice was much softer this time. More understanding. Like he actually cared about me.

This was getting weird.

I did as I was told. I took a deep breath and pushed my mana into the gem. It glowed, but unlike the other times, it didn't shatter. A soft blue light that slowly morphed into a near white glow. The magister smiled at me.

“I thought that might be the problem.”

“Your Excellence?” I was officially confused.

“The reason the other gems broke was because you were pushing too much mana for it to handle. Hence the shattering,” Firebrook explained. He pulled out one of the purple gems, “this gem is used to gauge mana potential in the common masses. It's not meant to measure a mage's potential. While that one,” eyeing the glowing blue gem, “is solely used for that purpose.”

What?

“All quel'dorei can use magic,” he began to explain, “but not all are suited to be mages. True, the average commoner is more attuned to magic than the average mage of the other races. And yes they can learn spells, channel mana, and can expand their mana reserves, but only to a point. Beyond extreme circumstances, mana pools can only expand so much with sheer effort. Others have naturally large pools beforehand. Which become proportionally larger with training.”

“You mean- I could..” Could this be my stepping stone?

“That you could be a mage? Absolutely! Look at that glow. That intense soft blue. The color of pure arcane energy. You, my dear, have a gift. You see that glow Merril?” Firebrook was far more jovial than earlier. Whereas before he looked like he was just going through the motions, doing a job he disliked, now he looked positively animated.

He had seemingly forgotten that anyone else was in the room.

“Yes your excellence, “ Merril answered blankly. The aid looked like he wanted to anywhere but here. “It is a clear indication of potential.”

“Indeed it is. What's your name dear?” his question brought me back to reality.

“Syllia, your excellence.”

“Syllia...”

I frowned, “Just Syllia.” Did I even have a last name? Mom never mentioned if we had a family name. Were we that poor?

“Well then 'Just' Syllia,” he joked. At least he was acting nicer now. “Are you being picked up by a parent? I believe we will have much to discuss about your future.”

“My future?”

“But of course! Talent like your should not simply be wasted. I might be a magister, but I am also a teacher.” He frowned, “I hope its not presumptuous of me, but it would appear that your current living standards would not allow for the usual smooth entrance into a magisterial academy.”

Magisterial Academy! Entrance!

I didn't say anything. My silence was enough of an answer for him.

“Quite so. I wish to discuss with your parents how best to get you the resources you need to enter one of the academies. A scholarship if you will. To help pay your tuition and get you supplies. For my part, I happen to be a member of the admissions board of Silversun Academy. I've seen its halls welcome mages with only half the brilliance of this glow, and I'd be damn if I let such potential languish unrefined because of something so mundane as monetary burdens. Of course you will still have to be tested to meet the minimum academic requirements. But some basic tutoring can bring you up to the standards expected of young initiates.”

This was it, wasn't it. The thing I was looking for. That glimmer of hope for more I had been praying for! A chance to climb my way out of this way of life and into the lap of power and influence! I could make a difference in the world! I wasn't going to be just some random person going about their lives without an ounce of agency! The first step in my-

Crack

In my excitement, I had been channeling more and more mana into the gem during our conversation. Filling it up like a water balloon. Its glow had been brightening as we talked. But like a water balloon, it can only take being filled so much before it popped.

And now its shattered fragments fell onto my desk like the other gems before, overloaded by the amount of mana I pushed into it.

The entire room was silent. Noly stared wide-eyed at the broken blue bits on my desk. Firebrook looked at the gem's remnants flabbergasted, then back to me. His smile grew ever larger.