The Great City

The journey to the capital, Eldoria, was long but smooth. There were no attacks from any wild monsters or Demi humans, and Oliver was thankful. He's never spent time learning about offensive magic. He wanted to focus more on the fundamentals of magic casting, as a sturdy base would support you for years to come.

Most people learned magic right away, focusing on spell casting. But Oliver focused on the basics first, forsaking an early head start but getting his base down proper.

Mana usage, circulation, theory. Oliver focused on it all. The best mages started with the basics. That's something Oliver knew well.

Being the son of a duke, he had all the books he needed to teach himself magic. Oliver's self upbringing has always been a source of pride for him. Not many mages can proudly proclaim they taught themselves magic, after all.

The trip was long, two weeks long. The carriage stopped at nights, usually in a small backwater village Oliver's never heard of.

Oliver seldom interacted with the Coachman, and the Coachman did the same. He simply wanted to be paid, and this trip was one hell of a payday. He'd ride anyone around if it meant getting paid. As for interacting with a nobles brat, that he wouldn't do.

Still, the Coachman had an air of professionalism about him. He wore a black top hat that served as a shield from the elements and to further push this professionalism he carried around.

On his hands, he had a pair of black, sleek leather gloves. They were tight to the mans knuckles.

He wore a heavy, brown wool coat that went down to his knees. Underneath he had a waistcoat of the same color and design.

Underneath all this, he was adorned with a high collar shirt with a cravat that was tied in a neat manor.

Cozy wool breaches accompanied his professional look, tightly hugging his lower half in a cozy warmth. The white color was in contrast to his brown and black attire.

Finishing the whole look was a pair of sleek black shoes with buckles on the side. Accompanying them was a pair of knee high, cotton stockings.

Overall, the coachman's look was a mix of professionalism and functionality, serving to give him maximum efficiency while still looking decent.

Soon the two weeks we're up, and Oliver saw the beginning of the capital city, Eldoria.

The first impression Oliver got of Eldoria was formidable.

Large, stone walls stood, staring down at the seemingly insignificant people below.

Towering sentinel statues, crafted from enchanted marble, are interspersed along the walls of Eldoria. These statues depict mythical beings and legendary guardians, their eyes seemingly ablaze with an otherworldly light. They stand as silent protectors, watching over the city and its inhabitants, ready to come to life in times of dire need.

Every inch of the walls is adorned with intricate carvings, depicting scenes from Eldoria's rich history, legendary heroes, mythical creatures, and arcane symbols. Runes and glyphs, imbued with magical energy, are etched into the stones, serving as both decorative motifs and protective wards against malevolent forces.

The wall was a towering thirty meters high. Large towers reached up high to the sky with smaller bastions littered around the wall. The wall glowed a brilliant but mellow light blue. Oliver wondered what they were made from.

The entrances to Eldoria are marked by grand gateways that pierce through the colossal walls. These gateways are adorned with ornate arches, intricately designed with intertwining vines, fantastical creatures, and celestial symbols.

Although he couldn't see it, Oliver could feel the magic that saturated the great walls.

Soon, the coachman arrived at one of the gates.

A man holding a clipboard was seated at a checkpoint. Armored guards suited up in brilliantly shiny iron armor were stationed around the checkpoint.

The lead man was young, in his twenties most likely. He held a clipboard tight to his chest and wore light, leather armor.

The stagecoach quickly pulled up to the front gate, not wanting to waste anymore time.

"Purpose of visit?" The man asked, wasting no time at all with pleasantries.

The coachman showed a slight grin, liking the man's attitude.

"My passenger is participating in the entrance exam for the magic academy." The lead man motioned for a couple soldiers to check the back.

Oliver sat patiently, only turning when the two armed guards peeked into the carriage.

"Judging by that engraving, the Hawthorne family?" The lead man sighed. Today was a busy day, and it would continue being busy for the next two weeks. "That's right sir." The coachman replied.

"Alright. Go ahead." Giving a signal to the knights, the stagecoach was allowed passage past the great walls.

Although the stagecoach was moving, Oliver stood, peeking his head out the window in awe of the brilliant architecture of the city.

Gorgeously laid stone paths made up the road. They were some sort of red rock.

The shopfronts and stores lined up along the road were a testament to the wealth and prestige of the city.

The stores all held beautiful clothes. Oliver noticed one store had custom tailored suits and dresses. Another had casual clothing, if you could call it that. Any clothing item in the whole city would likely cost gold!

Oliver then took notice to the weapons being sold.

Men walked in and out of different metal work shops. Swords, spears, and massive battle axes were being shown in the display cases out front. The towering mass of metal that looked to be a suit of armor was stationed out front.

Oliver was in awe.

"Coachman! Pull over!" Oliver quickly urged the stageman to pull off the road.

"Yes my lord." The coachman replied.

Oliver was exhilarated! He noticed a real magic shop.

Oliver grinned at the thought of him buying some magic artifact.

The Coachman pulled into a parking lot a few paces down the road and let Oliver leave.

"I'll be back in ten minutes. You stay here and watch the stagecoach." The coachman only nodded in response, sending the now rambunctious little mage towards the shop.

*ding* a soft bell rung as Oliver opened the door.

An old man who must've been at least seventy five years old stared at Oliver with a smile.

"What brings you here young lad!" The man's voice was booming with pride. The man wore a suit and tie that looked professional. It was reminiscent of the suits he saw in the stores earlier.

"I'd like to look around sir." Oliver addressed the man with utmost respect. He could feel it, the man was a mage! Oliver couldn't quite explain it but he knew the man was a mage.

"Are you perhaps participating in the entrance exam?" The old man was an astute person.

"Yes sir. I've been studying for god knows how long, all in preparation for the exam." The old man smiled warmly.

"Well young mage, I'm sure you'll find the entrance exam to be a breeze if you've taken interest in my store. If you will come with me, I think I can find something you'd like." The old man hobbled from behind the front desk, using a cane to assist him in walking, all the way to the back.

The man pushed a door open and signalled for Oliver to follow.

With a nervous look on his face, Oliver hesitantly followed.

Oliver saw many boxes in the back room. Random rings, necklaces and other artifacts decorated the shelves of the back room.

Eventually the old man stopped at an orb. The orb was milky white and seemed to be made of some kind of crystal. It lay upon a purple cushion.

"All right lad, place your hand right here." The old man pointed at the ball.

Feeling invigorated by the mana kind demeanour, Oliver washed away his hesitance and placed his hands in the ball.

Oliver immediately noticed the feeling of mana leaving his body. But this was like nothing he ever felt before! While casting Eanclay the feeling was short and left him feeling no different than before, until repeat attempts, but this!

This felt like true fatigue! Exhaustion even!

The ball changed too. Slowly becoming a myriad of colours. Radiant reds, mellow blues. All range of colour was on the ball, the biggest spots being a shade of black and bright red.

The old man examined the ball with a glow in his eyes, surprised by the magnitude of power it gave out.

"Excellent! This will do perfectly. Your truly magnificent. You'll make a fine mage in your future, I can see it!" The old man was excited like a fat kid eating cake.

Oliver smiled seeing the mana expression, but mostly because of his praise. He didn't understand the colours one bit, but he was excited all the same.

"Thanks old man, it means a lot to hear that." The old man patted Oliver on the shoulder before he turned towards the shelves once again.

He reached for a small wooden box. The wood was aged and clearly ancient. Cracks ran through the box.

Opening the box, the old man grasped the ring inside.

"Come, come. I have a gift for a young talent." Oliver walked towards the man, both confused and happy.

The ring was made of a dark metal. Oliver could feel it's magical properties. Still, he didn't know the rings function.

Along the ring runes were engraved in. It was clearly a magical artifact of great strength. The old man took Oliver's left hand and slid the ring across his index finger.

Unbeknownst to Oliver, the man did something else.

He cast a spell. It was silent and quickly cast, but the malevolent energy was undeniable. Oliver however, couldn't feel any of it. He didn't even know he's been inflicted by the spell.

When Oliver asked for the purpose of the ring the old man gave a general reply like "it'll help you cast certain spells."

Oliver thanked the man for the ominous ring and quickly left.

When Oliver got back in the stagecoach and left for a inn, he couldn't bring himself to remove the ring.

"How odd." He remarked, but quickly lost interest.