The Ruby Magician

Ardwyn was mystified at the sheer number of people walking about in the sprawling city of Alestead. He was standing just inside the entrance past the massive open doorways, dumbstruck at the sight. His entire company’s horse riders could’ve fit through them, all six of them, riding side by side. All kinds of people walked through those doors, from nobles and their vassals to commoners wearing their entire life on their back. They walked through the door from different cultures and cities, though all were the same past that grand entrance. No matter their history on the other side of those pillar-like door frames they now shared something, one aspect to make them equals.

They were visitors, merely tourists, come to see the tower and the Climbers that challenged it.

Someone bumped into Ardwyn, barely noticing him, their eyes wide and head turning quickly, trying to see all that the grand entrance to the city offered. He readjusted his backpack straps, the weight nearly throwing him off. The woman kept walking, gaping with an open mouth, just as struck as Ardwyn at the city around them.

Ardwyn stopped to look at her, beginning to chastise her for her rudeness, but quickly saw what actually drew her attention in the distance. The tower was even larger than he had assumed. It stood taller than the mountain range behind it that was rumored to strand at least a dozen people a year, yet it was thin and circular like a winding staircase in a castle. Granted, he had not seen many of those, only the ones at the Lord’s castle he once guarded years ago, but mused at how their tower appeared to this one like a cat to a dragon.

The tower was named Alistair, and it was the lone magical tower in Jahnin. It was as glorious as it was dreadful.

Ardwyn shook his head, focusing. He looked around at the droves of people, watching them, taking note of where they were headed. Some were forming lines to the side further into the city, where stations were set with tents and small lines formed for new Climbers. Most, though, were headed straight to the tower, seeking out the shops and more attractions in the city, funneling through the streets like ants in a line.

It was nearly suffocating, the amount of people here, and Ardwyn tried to take a closer look at the people rushing to get inside. There were locals, citizens who’d decided to take residence in the tower’s city and procure businesses. He recognized them from carts they brought with them with freshly procured supplies, or trade items for their own shops. He remembered hearing that Alestead was a place of commerce and business, the people exchanging food, drink, equipment, and all manners of goods due to the high wealth that is exchanged by both the tower’s explorers and tourists, as well.

He could tell the Climbers apart from veterans and rookies, too, as those wide-eyed with wonder and curiosity were also filled with a healthy dash of fear and anxiety, just like him. They mostly blended in with the crowd but Ardwyn was able to spot them with some effort. They sprinkled through the people, all ending up at the lines that gathered by the tents deeper past the gates.

The veterans he recognized easily, as they carried large weapons on their backs or sides and armor or clothes that looked outlandish and impractical. Plus, tourists either avoided them out of fear, or stopped to bother them with questions and admiration.

Gooseflesh ran across Ardwyn’s arms seeing the veteran Climbers. They were who he aspired to be, coming to the tower in the hopes of gaining a similar level of fortune and fame. His heart beat quicker, and he took deep breaths to steady his nerves.

The city of Alestead was a marvel, just like he had heard. The tower was set on the edge of the mountain range behind the city, and the city itself formed a half circle surrounding the magical spectacle that rivaled any capital city in the country. Ardwyn knew it would take weeks before he would even be able to explore it all, and likely three times longer to be used to the layout.

He took a deep breath. He had the time, though - he wasn't going anywhere else for the foreseeable future.

Continuing to make his way towards the rookie lines, he saw the crowd slow down. There were several lines now, dozens of people waiting for their entrance. Stations were equally set apart from each other, small kiosks where officials gated further entrance.

Ardwyn saw several lines were moving faster. They had veteran Climbers, he assumed, as they all flashed something to the official and quickly moved past the rest. Other lines were slow, full of those without equipment to explore the tower, and their stations had periodic cheers or sorrowful yells.

“Wild, isn’t it?”

A woman, older than Ardwyn, had her arms crossed standing beside him. He jumped, not expecting her or noticing how close she was. She wore fur covered armor from her neck to her boots, and her auburn hair matched the color and was pulled back in a braid. She had a quiver on her back where feather fletched arrows stuck out. Ardwyn noticed they weren’t all the same color.

“That’s one word to describe it.” Ardwyn had to stop himself from staring in curiosity and admiration.

“Don’t worry - you’ll get used to it. If you survive this crowd, that is.” She flashed a wink. Her face was warm and inviting, her freckles looking like tattooed dots on her face. She extended a hand. “Name’s Marcy.”

Ardwyn readjusted his backpack, trying to redistribute the weight, before grasping her hand and shaking it. It was strong, rugged and firm. He felt the callouses from her palms, and it reminded him of his time greeting men out in the fields at war. It was an archer’s grip.

“Wyn. Nice to meet you, Marcy.”

“You as well.” She looked around, peering through the crowd. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, as though she was smelling something fragrant and fresh.

“The lines,” Wyn said, as he noticed her shifting gaze. “They’re going through their harmony, aren’t they?”

Her head moved to him, where she eyed him up and down in a second.

“Yea, they are. You’re well caught up. Not many know about the harmony process.”

“Really? I figured everyone would be excited to find out their class!”

They both turned and looked at one of the harmony lines, where shouts and yells suddenly erupted above the normal chatter. A group of people were laughing at someone, a man, young and energetic, who had just finished being harmonized. He threw his hands up in the air in dismay.

“Not everyone,” Marcy said, laughing. “People want to choose their class but it isn’t that simple. The harmony shows them what the tower wants them to be, but I guess you already knew that.” She pointed to the line of rookies. “Some, like him, aren’t too happy about the outcome.”

“I guess that’s true, though the whole process is incredible. You’d think people would appreciate whatever they got. Do you have to follow your class, though?”

“No, not exactly. Though it’s expected you do. It determines your mentor, if you can cast spells, and even the skills you’ll gain in Alistair. If you choose a different class than you harmonized with, it’ll be much harder to improve and hone your talents.”

Wyn nodded, trying to solidify her words to memory. “And why would you want it to be harder when you’re already facing the tower itself, right?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Marcy said, and jokingly punched him in the arm.

Wyn smiled, thankful she was friendly and helpful. He made a quick mental note to find her again, if possible, to see if she’d be willing to help him in the tower.

“There’s still a lot I don’t know. I only knew of the class harmony, a bit about the tower and classes. Not much about the rest.” Wyn looked around, seeing the different Climbers merge into Alistair’s base on the other side of the stations. There had to be dozens. More of them would enter, more than likely, before the day was over.

“That’s alright. You’ll learn what you need before you enter the tower, and figure out the rest with a good party.”

“I appreciate it,” Wyn said. “You’ve been a great help. I hope to see you inside!” Wyn extended his hand first this time, hoping it wouldn’t be too difficult to find specific Climbers once inside.

“You too,” Marcy replied, accepting the handshake. “I’m a Ranger, by the way. Specialize in archery. I’d be glad to party up for your first trip in if you decide to enter today or tomorrow. Wouldn’t hurt to have a friendly face for your first time, after all. Too many deaths lately.”

Wyn nodded in agreement. He had heard about that. It dissuaded some people from becoming Climbers. Even his sister and father didn’t want him to go. But the appeal of riches, glory, and power was too much for people to completely stop applying.

He also was delighted to hear she would accompany him on his first trip in the tower. He took a deep breath as he felt his nerves settle a bit though his heart kept racing.

“Too true. Thank you again. I should probably go ahead and get in line!” Wyn smiled, one last pleasantry to offer, before joining a line to harmonize. It wouldn’t be too long, thankfully, as he quickly counted about ten people in front of him, though a new source of anxiety was growing within him.

His military training served him well for fighting. He’d be fine in a combat class, if not excelling, as most ex-military would be - Fighter, Rogue, or Hunter would all be useful. His heart raced as he took another step forward, one step closer to deciding his fate. Just to prepare, he studied on some basic magic principles, in case he had a class that offered some magical abilities, like the Sorcerer or many different kinds of Magicians.

He didn’t want to become a completely magical class, as he felt like his background would be wasted, though he wondered if it could give him an edge over other people? Mages normally didn’t engage in combat. Not directly, at least. If he was skilled in wielding weapons and had more training than most, which he did, maybe that would be a valuable trait to a fully magical class?

Unless the growth of spells, skills, and procurement of items based on the Climber’s class didn’t account for things like that. Breaking out of the norm for the class was generally frowned upon, and he didn’t need to research that bit of information - it was generally known.

Wyn wasn’t sure about it all. Regardless, he thought about the potential of becoming a master in his class. A skillful, dexterous Rogue. A tough, strong Fighter. A perceptive, nimble Hunter. An intelligent, spell-slinging Magician or Sorcerer.

No matter what class he would receive, he would immerse himself completely. It was imperative to succeed, to climb the tower and gain the rewards it offered. Arabelle and their father both relied on him, and there was no other choice for him to take.

He heard a woman loudly clear her throat, drawing out the noise for emphasis. He blinked, lost in thought, and realized he was now next in line.

The woman behind the small desk in front of him waved her hand like she was a teacher getting the attention of a distracted student.

“Are you not ready yet?” she said, her voice gravelly and hoarse. She was older and frail looking.

“Um,” Wyn said, stammering, “yes, ma’am, I believe so. What do I do?” He pulled off his backpack and placed it on the ground, thankful the weight was off his back.

He looked down at the desk in front of him and saw a number of odd items. Taking up the majority of the desk was a large open box, full of grey colored sand. A palm sized opaque orb rested beside it, beautiful and ornate. In front of the woman laid a blank piece of parchment, though no quill or ink was to be seen.

She picked up the orb and handed it Wyn. “You hold this, then watch. Easy.”

He subconsciously grabbed it carefully, like someone would hold a delicate, expensive piece of jewelry. It was smooth and well worn, cloudy in appearance, drawing Wyn’s attention to it by what felt like a command. The orb’s cloudy appearance began to move, shifting and swirling like a rolling thunder cloud. Wyn wasn’t sure if he was supposed to see anything at all in the orb or just hold it, but he didn’t care in the moment. He had never held something so magical in his life. The sand in the box, once still, now shifted in unison with the clouded orb, a sort of magical communication forming.

Wyn couldn’t decide if the orb or sand was more interesting, then settled on watching the sand, witnessing runes and symbols eventually take shape. They would show in the box, take hold for a few seconds, then shift again, disappearing, like the moles that would peep out of their holes on the farm back home.

He laughed to himself. He left the farm, but he surmised the farm would never leave him.

He was brought back to the present as more symbols formed in the sand. He recognized some of them. One was the basic runic foundation for magic - a circle with a triangle set inside. It represented the base for writing spells, a form of connection with intended spells and magical energy. He remembered reading it while preparing for the tower, just in case he could cast magic.

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach, as though the magical objects caused that, too. He wondered if it meant he would be given a magical class, or if this process itself was magical.

Another symbol flashed, though he couldn’t recall what it meant. It was a circle with a square set in the middle, identical to the one with a triangle inside it though simply a different shape. There were many more that showed, more complicated than the basic ones, and he was unsure what they meant.

Just as soon as it began, or so he thought, it stopped. The sand returned to the same calm setting it was before, and the orb no longer had swirling clouds within it. The woman picked up the parchment in front of her and began writing on it, using a quill she pulled from behind the desk. If there was any ink on it Wyn couldn’t tell, as she wrote in a flurry and didn’t stop to dip it in any inkwell. He carefully sat the orb back down on the desk, waiting for her to finish.

She stopped writing abruptly and hid the quill as quickly as she revealed it. “Congratulations! Your class has been chosen.”

Wyn blinked. “Wait, just like that?” Wyn’s heart raced again, his anxiety and excitement reaching new heights as he was left in suspense.

“Just like that,” she replied with a smile. She folded the parchment and handed it to him. “Please proceed past the gate and report to the guild hall.” She motioned to someone behind her, who rushed out from the tent and grabbed his backpack. “Your belongings will be ready for you at the guild hall, where you’ll be given a key to your room and information about your mentor. Good luck! You, especially, will need it.” She waved him off once more, already looking past him for the next person in line.

Wyn, barely hearing any words she said, walked past the gate with his parchment in hand. He wondered what she meant by saying he’ll need luck, but guessed she said it to every rookie who entered the tower for first time.

He looked down at the parchment and opened it, having already forgotten about his backpack in the wonder of the events that just unfolded. Inscribed in fancy letters, there was information written at the top half of the page, information that he had no idea how it was revealed to the woman or anyone.

He read it several times, finding himself in awe of his new status.

Ardwyn Thatcher

Citizen of town Rywood

Resident of Jahnin

Tower Alistair: Climber

Class: Ruby Magician

Growth: Any

Passive Skills: Lucidity, Armored Spellcasting, Spellcasting (Ruby)

Active Skills: Dyadcast, Speed Up

Wyn smiled and tried to steady his shaking hands. He folded the parchment and put it in his pocket.

He remembered reading about Magicians, or more commonly called Mages. They were one of the two base classes for magic users, though their focus varied greatly depending on which elemental branch they were.

Ruby was not one of the elemental branches. It was a rare class, able to utilize a mixture of both spells and combat skills that afforded the Climber variety. Or, rather, that’s what the basic information books said. Hopefully his mentor could shed more light on the class, as well as have him ready to climb today.

After all was said and done, Wyn felt excitement rise within him. The tower was mere feet away and his entrance ticket was punched. Plus, he wasn’t just any Mage. He was a Ruby Magician.