His teacher who'd been sitting on the edge of the bed, rose to her feet, a dress materializing around her body. The first time Greg had seen her do this, he'd been surprised thinking that there was a spell one could cast to clothe themselves. His teacher, however, had revealed that they were robes that were enchanted to achieve this effect. According to her, they were common among mages. They'd first begun as a convenient way of saving both time and effort, but as with most things, this was forgotten. Now, among many mages, it was considered plebian to have to physically pull on one's clothes.
Greg, who was already on his feet, turned ready to bolt for the teleportation room. While his teacher could directly teleport to where the tokens were, he had no such ability. If Greg wanted to get there, he'd need to make use of the teleportation room. Using Earth Step, Greg had already made it halfway there when he heard his teacher's voice. "Wait," She called out to him. Turning to her, Greg found that the frown on her face had deepened. "I'm coming with you," She declared, even as she moved towards him. "I am not sure how or why, but something is interfering with my ability to teleport to the tokens," She informed him, causing the worry in Greg to increase sharply. This meant that whatever was happening over in town had a magical aspect to it. Wasting no time, both of them moved to the teleportation room and jumped over.
Usually, when it wasn't winter, the infirmary was largely empty save for one or two people who might have come down with something or been injured in some way. In recent months, this had changed as there was always a number of women waiting for Roka the healer to finish his lessons with the healer and come to 'treat' them. Today, however, Greg and his teacher found themselves sharing a look as they found the infirmary completely empty. Even Shalia, who was usually working on some task at her workstation was nowhere to be found. Greg didn't hear any screams or sounds of distress, so he calmed down a bit. Still, the pace of his steps didn't let up, if anything, they sped up.
The mystery of where everyone had gone was quickly solved as they came to the entrance of the infirmary to find a crowd of women, Shalia among them all looking up at the sky. Greg immediately studied their faces trying to see if there was something wrong that he needed to prepare himself for. But rather than fear, all Greg could see was shock and curiosity. The two of them stepped out of the infirmary and likewise looked up in the same direction that everyone else was. Greg was only vaguely aware that his jaw had dropped in complete shock as he found himself looking at a massive ship sailing through the air toward the town.
The thing was made out of a light brown wood and spotting a number of massive sails. From the way the body of the ship had been designed, one couldn't help but think of an underwater creature of some kind. The massive sails only completed the picture by appearing like the creature's fins. Even the smooth way it was moving through the air, seemed to exude the grace of a creature swimming through the air. Greg wasn't sure whether he wasn't giving enough credit to this marvel of magical engineering, or if it was something else but there seemed to be something more than simple mechanical adjustments in the way it moved.
Greg was about to say something to his teacher when he felt her hand land on his shoulder and clamp down tightly. Petite as the woman looked outwardly, it was almost impossible to imagine the amount of power she could generate. Greg couldn't help but wince with discomfort at how tightly she clung to him. Having already turned to her, Greg immediately noticed the grim look of recognition on her face. Her lips moved, but Greg heard the words in his ear as if she had whispered them so no one else could hear. "Quick, get your family, we are leaving!" she instructed, and without offering any further explanation or even waiting to see if Greg would comply, she turned and disappeared back into the infirmary...
***
Sanz Lothar stood calmly on the deck of the airship called Titan looking through the runic lens at the pool of black liquid near the top of the mountain. The runic lens was just a convex lens ringed with a metal band around the edge that was inlaid with various runes. Depending on how much mana one sent onto the metal, they could study the wings of a fly from up to ten kilometers away. Lothar had the appearance of a young man no older than twenty cycles. In truth, he was seventy cycles in age. His short spiky flame-red hair was the first indication one would get of his fire affinity. Pulling the lens away from his right eye, the second indication of his high fire affinity was revealed. Like two burning coals, his irises were a bright amber color. Looking at the stony expression on his face, one would have to be a mind mage to figure out the raging excitement he was barely suppressing. Letting out a long slow exhale, he turned and walked back into the airship.
The crew that was manning the ship was usually found several floors below deck on the navigation floor, just above the luggage and cargo floor. Depending on the size of the ship, anywhere from one up to three floors above the navigation room will be the passenger floors. On this ship, there were only two floors, not that they were needed, there were only five passengers on board. Here as with most other areas of life, people were stratified according to their class. The higher one's wealth, social standing, political influence, or tier as a mage, the lower the floor they occupied. The reason was simple, security. Given how heavily reinforced the bodies of these airships were, it was almost impossible to breach them. The only chance raiders and pirates had of taking over such airships without expending an inordinate amount of firepower, was to actually board the deck and go down floor by floor. The deeper one was inside the ship, the more hurdles a potential invader would have to face before they got to you.
A floor above that of the passenger floors was the servants' floor. Every category of servant from the ship's maids and cooks to the passengers' personal maids, if they had them, would be found on this floor. On the final floor above that of the servants' and just below the deck, is the security floor. On this floor, two groups stayed side by side, the ship security and the guards for any passengers that could afford it. The ship's security would fight to protect the passengers of the ship if they had the space to do so, but it was common knowledge that their first priority was to protect the ship itself first. The only people you could count on to protect you in case something went wrong was a guard that you had personally hired.
Lothar was a second-tier mage himself but the family had assigned three third-tier mages as his personal guards so he wasn't worried about security. Two followed him around out in the open while the third always remained hidden as an element of surprise. Looking at this, one would believe that he was a prized scion of his family. Only he knew that he was as much their prisoner as he was their master. They would answer to him and do whatever he asked of them. He, however, wasn't deceived. He knew that in reality, they only answered to his so-called father. And given how much that man hated him, Lothar doubted that his well-being was their primary concern.
"Wait outside," he calmly stated even as he walked into his office on the upper of the two passenger floors in the airship. Four of the five passengers on the airship occupied this floor. The fifth passenger on the airship occupied the lower passenger floor by herself. Given that she was a fifth-tier mage, no one on board was anywhere near crazy enough to contest the fact that she had a whole floor to herself. Seating behind the large desk that dominated one side of the room, Lothar reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a small crystal that was attuned to him. This was a secure messaging crystal that he'd obtained from the temple of Ozan, the farseeing eye. It had taken a lot of time and money for Lothar to forge a connection with one of its high priestesses. Getting this little prophecy out of her had cost him twice that much.
Lothar had always been gifted from birth. But the gods, fate, or whatever else people believe is out there is a cruel bastard. What it gives with one hand, it takes with another. His high affinity with the fire element made it so that his ascension both to the first tier and subsequently to the second tier had been far faster than any of his peers. But that's when the problem revealed itself. In a cruel twist of fate, He discovered that he had a mana-averse body. With the little amount of mana that first-tier mages had, the problem had been all but undetectable. When he rose to the second tier, however, the issues began. Migraines whenever he meditated longer than a few minutes. The amount of mana he could gather into his core dropped to a fraction of what it once was. Worst of all, any time he tried to cast an even moderately powerful spell, he would pass out. Given his precarious position within his family, Lothar knew that his life would be forfeit if it was discovered. And so Lothar had done all he could to keep this a secret from everyone as he sought a solution of some kind. A decade of fruitless and increasingly desperate efforts to find a cure had led him here
