Chapter 11

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***

My body decided to wake up early in the morning as a matter of habit. My head felt heavy and slightly sore; my eyelids didn't open properly, trying to close for at least a couple of hours, or better yet, five; and I felt weak all over my body.

Yesterday was a difficult day. Yesterday, we decided to celebrate my early passing of the exam at Ban Ard Academy. Why doesn't this academy have the same strict rules as Arethusa? I mean, they don't get the female students so drunk. Although, in my defence, it wasn't only alcohol that affected my current state.

The exam itself took place at the end of some six months after admission. This time was easily enough for me to learn the basics of the magical arts, the basic realities of local politics and to get to know the history of this world better.

The decision to celebrate came to Detmold's brother, and I hadn't planned anything about it at first. He decided to celebrate in the town tavern, even wanting to treat us at his expense. There wasn't much in the way of entertainment at the academy, so we didn't refuse, accepting his offer.

Our trio got permission to visit the city until the end of the next day and, anticipating the soon relaxation from alcohol and the bard's song, piled into the most popular tavern. Already inside we learnt about the soon to start tournament of fighters. This time I decided to participate, not so much because of the fighting itself, but because of the prize money. The basic prize was fifty marks, and each participant contributed a fifth from himself, thus inflating the prize money to a hundred.

The organisers defrayed the cost by a fee from the owner of the inn near where the fights took place, attracting attention to the place, and part of the bets.

Then I decided that a hundred marks in my pocket wouldn't be out of place. I was still in the negative because of my debt to the academy. I entered with nine other participants and waited for the start, having already drunk one mug of beer. My brothers didn't participate. Unlike me, who continued to train even after enrolling, they had less time for physical development.

Although, I'll be honest, I wouldn't participate in such fights myself without the ability to foresee. Good physical parameters are good, as is the ability to swing a sword at the proper level. But fist fights are a little different. The best of the locals and those arriving in the city at the moment performed at these fist fights.

The participants were not distinguished by the skills of the professional fighters from my past world. Their style was based on personal experience, and was mostly boxing, with occasional wrestling.

It wasn't easy to win, I was able to win only because of foresight. At the same time, he fought off the brushes and received a couple of unpleasant hits on the body, from which there was no possibility to dodge or had to take them to answer harder.

Just remembering about the hands, they immediately gave an unpleasant sensation. My hands clenched involuntarily, and my right hand clenched something soft and warm. I opened my eyes, canting my gaze to the right.

- Right, and how had I forgotten... - one of the tavern workers was clinging to my right side. It was either Alya or Arya. I couldn't remember exactly, and my head continued to throb with aching pain, unwilling to help me think.

The girl was hugging my arm. Her head was level with mine, but she was considerably shorter in stature, allowing her to squeeze my hand between her legs. It was her thigh that my hand was squeezing.

- Okay, sure...' I whispered in a husky voice. - But I was thirsty-not only thirsty, but thirsty to take a piss. I'd had too much to drink before I went to bed.

While I was getting out of the warm 'captivity,' I was able to fully remember the backstory that had attracted me to this situation. And it was like this. After the victory I was given an honestly earned hundred marks. By that time Dritelm's savings had hit rock bottom, and there was nothing to celebrate the victory in fist fights with. So the winnings came into play. Somehow it turned out that I decided to treat one of the attractive waitresses who was making eyes at me, or so it seemed to me. Although...

- It didn't seem that way,' I ran my hand over her arse.

Drinking, sleep deprivation, fatigue from the fights and 'night adventure' had affected me a lot. I had to clean myself up. First I went to take a piss, then I took a drink from the well, because it was next to the inn, otherwise I would have had to ask the innkeeper for something. Having sorted out my usual needs, I went in search of my brothers, who, as it turned out, were still asleep and not in a hurry to wake up.

- Well, that's true. You can sleep longer after this,' I returned to the rented room and checked my things. Or rather my prize, of which only half was left. - Easy come, easy go.

I undressed again and went back to bed with the second of last night's prizes.

***

- I still can't believe that the Rector himself took you on as a personal apprentice,' Detmold said as we left the city. - As far as I know, he hasn't had any apprentices in a long time. Apart from running the academy himself, he gave only one, sometimes two lectures a week to those who passed the exams.

- It was my peculiarity that played the main role here, rather than the quick passing of the exam, though it was probably not without it,' I answered him.

His brother Drithelm was walking next to us, just as he had done when we visited the city. Unlike us, he was now in the worst condition, as he had drunk more. Even the spell he had boasted about last night, which was supposed to remove or at least reduce the effects of his hangover, didn't help him much. From our conversation he only frowned slightly, rubbing his hand together.

- Well, he took it,' he wheezed, earning a mocking chuckle from his brother. - Rector Arethusa also has a student, so what, now our rector is worse?

- You must have missed the beginning of the conversation,' I decided to explain the meaning of the dialogue. - Detmold meant that unlike the rector of Arethusa, who still sometimes took on students, he didn't have any.

After listening to me, he ran his fingers over his temples once more, whispering a spell in parallel: a dim light flickered across his forehead, and his face relaxed slightly.

- It finally worked, oh... - He took a full breath and removed his hand from his forehead. - The man didn't want to take on apprentices, so there was no point in discussing it. And about the peculiarity, are you talking about the Source? - He spoke directly to me.

- Yes. Istok, although, as it turned out recently, not exactly Istok. It was much more difficult and interesting than it first appeared.

In fact, my passing the exam after only half a year of study had no effect on the Rector's decision about me. The turning point happened recently, about a month ago. We had a practice session outside the academy at that time. The practice was to control the energy from the Place of Power, which was a runes stone that concentrated the energy around it.

During my turn, when I was easily able to scoop up some of the energy and was about to scatter it, there was a sudden burst of energy from the stone, throwing me aside. But I didn't fall to the ground, or rather, I fell in the wrong place. I was teleported to my room.

The students thought it was some sort of uncontrollable seizure of Istok, though how could they say that when I had the best control in Chaos energy of any of the newcomers at the time.

The teacher on the other hand was surprised, not at the movement itself, he had seen teleportation many times in his life, but not like this... Not with such a magical structure. He told about it to the rector, and he in his turn held a dialogue with me, concerning my 'peculiarity'. I saw no point in avoiding answers, if he wanted to know, he could find out even without my consent. The same day I briefly recounted to him my story of moving to this world. I remembered the surprise on his face for a long time, and he was even more surprised when he learnt my great-grandmother's name.

- Fucking forest. Brother, why the hell haven't you learnt how to make portals yet? - Detmold complained, glaring at his brother as we passed the last part of the road to the academy, the dense forest.

- Don't be clever, it's the last spell they'll teach you. In fact, when you pass the exam, then open your mouth about spells.

- Yeah, yeah, if I graduate before you, considering the fact that you've been here a lot longer, don't whine about it.

- The only way you can finish early is in bed....

Their chatter continued all the way, so I decided to abstract myself from it, pondering the rector's words.

I had a lot to think about, considering that I was a descendant of the Elder Blood, a genetic material that could, in theory, give me great magical potential. It was this fact that influenced the Rector's decision to take on my training, while insisting that I take the exam early.

This way, Hela Gedimdeit could study the Elder Blood gene and my abilities, teaching me everything he knew about magic except for the forbidden branches, such as necromancy. The only thing he emphasised was not to tell anyone about my involvement with the Elder Blood for my own good.