"The Anvil of Initiation" Avalon Academy #5

Back with Abigail today as we see her make a crucial decision that will change the course of her life forever.

Avalon Academy of the Arcane is a Magical Slice-of-Life short story series that follows the daily lives of various students and staff at a magic school housed on the wandering island of Avalon.

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“Well, students, I have a bit of a surprise for you today: a new addition to our ranks. Please welcome Miss Abigail Scot,” said the Headmistress in front of a morning gathering for the Elementalists at the Academy. Abby wasn’t sure if all of the Elementalists were present, but there had to be at least a hundred and fifty in the crowd. They all wore roughly matching brown vest, brown trousers or skirt, and blue silk coats, with wonderfully intricate embroidery. Some had darker blue coats, whereas other seemed to have a kind of mantle. They had met at what Lauren had called “The Anvil of Initiation,” a small clearing in the woods that formed part of the border around the Academy campus. A hunk of metal with a smooth, flat, polished top sat in the middle of the clearing. It looked positively ancient, primordial. Moss and vines clung to the base of the mass. The whole clearing had a strange air about it. It felt… special, sacred even.

Abby awkwardly stepped forward and thought she stood like a child caught trying to sneak away a handful of sweets in the middle of the night. There were far too many faces looking at her at once for her to feel anywhere near normal. She could feel her cheeks and forehead burn under all the curious, probing eyes.

“She will be joining the Initiate class effective immediately. Please take care of her, as she is new to Avalon, even the concept of magic in general. She will need every bit of guidance and support you can offer.” Lauren continued. Abby looked to her as she spoke. She could still feel the eyes of the crowd on her. The Headmistress then pointed to a young man near the back of the crowd. “Scholar Reynard, please come see me. The rest of you, onto your studies. Remember that Master Ironhand will be in tomorrow for Forging training.”

She rang a small brass bell, and the people started going their separate ways. A man who seemed to be in his early twenties, with a blue silk head wrap walked up to the Headmistress and bowed his head. “You asked for me?”

Lauren smiled warmly. “Reynard, look at you, no longer an Apprentice. How does it feel?”

“It is a sincere honor, Headmistress Corvinus,” Reynard said, bowing his head again. Abby noticed that his coat was one that was darker than her own. It made the embroidered peacocks, swirls, and waves stand out all the more from their serene background.

“If I remember correctly, you have yet to take on any initiates or apprentices, yes?” Lauren said, crossing her arms against the chill as a cool morning breeze coursed through the rolling grassy hills.

“Not yet. Most have a Scholar or Master already to study under. There’s even less understudies now than there were in my first year.”

“Wonderful.” The Headmistress smiled. “I should like you to take on Miss Scot, if you have no objections.”

Reynard looked curiously over to Abby. She thought she caught a touch of concern, or doubt in his almost purple eyes. Then he looked back to Lauren. “Are you sure that I’m best suited for her? Perhaps someone with more experience would—”

“Nonsense. She is a rather ideal first understudy for you. No preconceptions, eager for guidance, and, most importantly, she’s incredibly talented.” The Headmistress smiled confidently, placing a hand on Reynard’s shoulder. “She passed The Test on her first try without any training whatsoever.”

Shock surged through Reynard’s face. His eyes looked close to bursting from their sockets. He looked over Abby again, then back to the Headmistress. “You must surely be joking. The last one to do that was…”

Lauren nodded, red hair tossed about behind her in a particularly energetic gust that pressed her elaborate blue robes against her slender body. “Exactly. Believe me, you are the first mentor I thought of for her. But if you’d—”

“That won’t be necessary, Headmistress. It would be my honor. I will not betray the confidence and trust you have put in me.” Reynard said, bowing with his right fist over his heart.

“Excellent,” the older woman said with an approving grin. “You may proceed.”

Reynard walked over to the opposite side of the hunk of metal, and then turned to Abigail, standing up straight as a statue. He tried to hide it, but she could see the nerves in his eyes. He was probably just as anxious as she was. “Miss Scot, please take a knee.”

She did so, almost falling over in the process in her rush to comply.

“Your full name, please?” He asked.

“Abigail Clarissa Scot”

He nodded, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. This was obviously an important moment to him, and, she guessed, for her as well. Reynard locked eyes with Abby, and withdrew a hammer from his pockets. He held it above his head, and energy sparked around the head of the hammer. He spoke in a clear, if a bit shaky voice. “Miss Abigail Clarissa Scot, I call to you to serve as my apprentice, that you may learn what I have learned, and build a thriving understanding of the forces that compose our world. By the Three Goddesses, I swear to you that I shall be your guide in your education, your torch through the darkness of doubt. I shall look after you, and protect you through your trials and lessons, and help you in your journey.”

He took another deep breath. “By the Three Goddesses, do you swear to follow my guidance, to uphold the virtues of honor, service, and scholarship as you learn and grow in this sacred land of Avalon?”

Abby’s heart stood still. The world about her seemed to move slower than it should as a leaf from a tree lazily sauntered about in an unseen breeze. She could feel the gravity of this moment. Once she agreed, she knew that there would be no way back.

Something told her to bow her head, and she did so. “I swear.” Her heart pounded as she spoke the words, and time seemed to resume it’s normal course. She raised her head again.

Reynard smiled, and he brought the hammer down in front of him onto the ancient anvil. A ringing sound resonated through the clearing, lingering far longer than it should. Then he raised the hammer, and brought it down again, and again, and again. Each time, the ringing seemed to last a little longer, but somehow become more warm, even pleasing to the ears, like an instrument being tuned. She could feel energy in the air building till he brought the hammer down a final time, and the world seemed to snap into sharper focus than ever before.

Reynard put the hammer back to where he had extracted it before, and walked around the hunk of metal so he could stand before Abby. He clutched something in his hands. “Rise, my apprentice, and claim your rightful place with my first gift to you.”

Abigail stood from where she had knelt, and he held out his hands, opening them so that she could see within. It was a key, old in design, made of what she supposed was wrought iron. She picked it up in both hands, and felt a surge of sensation wash over her. This was something sacred, something irreplaceable. Then it hit her, this was a key, just like the key the students she had followed must have used.

“You now belong to this land of Avalon. When there is no other home for you, she will shelter you. Ever shall your heart yearn for this new homeland when you are away. Should you leave, you will always be able to return through nearly any doorway, for while Avalon exists in one place and time, it is connected to all.” Reynard said quietly to her as she looked back to him. “Nine strikes made that key. One for each of the sacred elements that compose our world. One for each of the First Voyagers to this land. Welcome, Initiate Scot.”

Abigail bowed her head, tears forming in her eyes. “Thank you.”

To her side came the clapping hands of Headmistress Corvinus. She proclaimed, “Very well done, the both of you. Congratulations.”

Pride swelled in Abby’s chest. There might be hundreds, thousands of questions she had about her new homeland, but this all felt so right. She needed to be here. This was where she belonged. It was clearer now to her than it had been since she had first stepped through that door at the abandoned mill office.

She heard a cough, like someone clearing their throat, and out of the corner of her eye, Abby spied another young man who stood at the edge of the clearing who peered at a pocket watch. He spoke in a nasal, pinched voice. “my lady, you are about to be late for your meeting with Sentinel Branard.”

“Right,” Lauren started, sighing, “you will have to forgive me, you two, but duty, as always, calls. We shall speak later. For now, onto your studies!” She walked over to the man, looked back with a weak, but reassuring smile, and left the clearing with him.

“That’s Master Zagwan, he’s the Headmistress’s personal assistant.” Reynard said as Abby turned to look at him again. He was a good head taller than her. Most people at the Academy seemed to be, really. “Headmistress Corvinus loves teaching, and being a part of her students lives, but there is so much that a Headmistress must take care of that she rarely gets to teach anymore. Master Zagwan is pretty much the only one who keeps her on track with her duties.”

“Why not step down and return to teaching?” Abby asked. She found herself fixated on the man’s eyes. They were purple after all, pale, almost blue, but she could see it. They certainly were unmistakably purple once you got close enough. That wasn’t the only curious thing about him, though. She noticed that his pale skin actually had a greenish hue to it. His blonde hair even had a touch of green, what little of it peeked from under his head wrap that was of the same embroidered silk pattern that his coat was made of.

He shrugged. “I’ve asked that myself. It really is where her passion lies. I’m sure it’s a political move more than anything. There’s a lot of people who feel the Elementalists, the Academy, and Avalon in general should be operated in different ways, so on and so forth, and she seems to be the only figure respected by all the different sides in our Order, so she kind of keeps things together. Of course, they forget that even a Headmaster has to work with the other two Orders, and that at the end of the day, The Three Goddess are the ultimate authority.” Reynard sighed, then chuckled. “But hey, that’s me trying to sound like I know what I am talking about with regards to politics. Your Keeper will probably be able to tell you a lot more about that since they are directly involved in that kind of stuff. Who did the Headmistress bring you to, by the way?”

“Willa.” Abby replied, memories of that incredible feast the woman, who was more whirlwind than human, had made for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, cheese… it felt almost sinful to think of how luxuriously she had eaten.

“Really?” Reynard’s pale eyebrows raised. “She’s a wild one, that Willa, but she’s amazing. She will make sure you will want for nothing, though you’ll likely have to work hard for it. I’ve also heard Willa’s quite the tutor, if you need more help in your lessons. Though, again, you’ll have to work to pay her back.”

“I’ll take hard work over starving like I used to any day.” Willa had asked Abby to scrub the kitchen floor after she had eaten. She would have cleaned every floor in the house just to have that breakfast again.

Reynard smirked. “Well said.”

Abby smiled back. “So… what now?

“Ah, right. You don’t really know how things work here. How long have you been here in Avalon?” Reynard asked, a fresh breeze pushing through the clearing.

“Yesterday morning, actually,” Abby said casually.

Reynard’s head tilted to the side. “Curious. And you had no knowledge of magic before you came here?”

“Certainly not magic like this,” she said, gesturing around herself.

“And yet you passed the test. You must learn quickly…” He nodded, obviously brimming with thoughts and questions, not too unlike herself, if only from the opposite perspective.

Reynard spoke in a steady tone, pausing at each major point, probably in order to make sure she understood what he was saying, “Well, there are nine ranks, or classes, at the Academy. These are subdivided into three Grades. The first is the Apprentice Grade, which comprises Initiate, Apprentice, and Senior Apprentice classes. The next Grade is that of Scholar, and has the classes Junior Scholar, Scholar, and Senior Scholar. Then there is the Magus Grade, this covers Magus, Master, and Grandmaster classes, though it should be noted that most students at the Academy graduate, and choose to pursue other paths in life once they reach the level of Magus.”

“Why is that?” Abby asked.

“Each class before Master Grade may take a year, perhaps two or three, to test into the next class. But Master and Grandmaster is a level of understanding and skill that very few will ever achieve, or even seek to. It may take a decade or more of hard work and study for a Magus to grow to the class of Master, and even longer for Grandmaster.” Reynard cleared his throat after the last point.

Abby thought for a moment, then said, “So each class has a test to determine if you are ready for the next level?”

Reynard smirked. “Exactly right. Very astute. As an Initiate, your test to reach Apprentice is to forge your own Fulcrum, but we will talk on that subject later. For now, let’s take a walk. Today will mostly be about learning more of each other. A truly beneficial apprenticeship starts from a place of respect and understanding.” He said, as he started to walk out of the clearing.

Abigail followed shortly behind. Reynard’s pace was much more leisurely and comfortable to keep up with than Willa’s or Lauren’s, even with his longer legs. He looked back and waved for her to walk next to him, as opposed to behind him. “I’m your mentor, not a Professor, or a Master. We are here to learn together.”

“How does that work, exactly?” she asked as Abby took her spot next to him.

“Elementalists take a hybrid approach to learning. We have regular lecture hall-style courses that everyone of the same level must take. You’ll see both Scholars and Magi teaching the Initiate courses. I myself have to prepare a lecture on Arcane History next month for the Initiate Class. This is supplemented and expanded by our Apprenticeship program, where Scholars and above take on Apprentices to help guide and foster growth outside of the regular coursework. This gives each student special attention to ensure they are truly grasping their studies, and expand their lessons beyond the classroom. It is wildly beneficial for the learning of both the understudy, and the mentor,” Reynard said.

Abby looked back to him with a somewhat puzzled expression. “But, you are a higher rank than me. What would you have to learn from me?”

“See, that’s just it. Scholars learn just as much by teaching, as studying. When you reach a certain level of understanding, your next step to learning is passing that knowledge on. You’d be surprised how much you learn just by thinking of how you would explain what you know, or think you know, to others.” Reynard cleared his throat, and then continued. “Even more surprising are the insights that can be learned from those you teach. I helped Scholar Malenia better understand Fire magic, since I have an affinity for it. She could barely keep a fireball together, whereas I don’t even have to concentrate that hard to do it.”

“Affinity? Like a talent?” Abby asked. There seemed to be something more to that word, but she wasn’t sure.

Reynard shrugged. “That’s not bad way of thinking about it. I’m sure the Headmistress explained what the sphere test was for?”

“Actually, she didn’t. Willa told me later, though. Something about finding out what kind of magic you can do, or how you learn?” Abby said as a particularly powerful gust of wind pushed past, flinging her dark curly hair about erratically. Willa had cut it to chin-length the night before, grumbling about how disappointed she was that she couldn’t save more.

“Basically, yes. But it also shows your Affinity, what element you are most deeply connected to. Sure, you might be an Elementalists, or naturally inclined towards spiritual connection to the elements. However, not even all Elementalists have the same natural drive or disposition.” He stopped walking and turned to face Abigail directly. “What did you see in the sphere? What did you put into it?”

“It looked like a swirling storm, a cyclone.” She looked down at her feet, somewhat embarrassed. “For some reason, it felt like… Change.”

“Intriguing that you intuitively made that correlation. Most don’t fully realize that till they reach Apprentice level. We’ll, it is just that,” Reynard said, which made Abby’s eyes snap back to his. “Wind, and Storms in general, are the essence of Change, metaphysically speaking. You have somewhat of a rare affinity, Abigail. It isn’t unheard of, mind you, just not commonplace.

Reynard looked out at the rolling grassy hills. “Change is so easily brought to Peace, which is the realm of Water; or sparked into Desire, which is the realm of Lightning. Those with a true Wind affinity are by nature adaptable, quick to recover when beaten down, or come at a problem from a different angle when stumped. They push forward, even when they may be unsure of where they are going.” He smirked, looking back to her. “Sound familiar?”

Abigail gave a shy smile in response, demurely bowing her head.

“I thought it might. Honestly, it explains why you were so quick to master the test. Though passing on your first try is still virtually unheard of.” He began walking again. “Well, Abigail, why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you about the campus as we talk.”

“Oh, um. You can just call me Abby. Only my Mom and Dad called me Abigail, and that was only when I was in trouble.” Abby said as she followed.

“Abby it is, then,” Reynard said with a smile. “What about your parents, then. Where are they?”

Abigail’s heart dropped as if thrown from a cliff. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then replied, “I’d…rather not talk about it…”

Reynard looked back to her, and she could see understanding grow in his eyes, then… pain. He nodded “No wonder she wanted you to be my apprentice…”

It seemed unwise for her to push any further, as much as she wanted to. She knew the pain she had seen in his eyes. They didn’t need to speak aloud. Sometimes a single look said more than a bucket of words.

They kept walking through the endless rolling green hills, the wind coursing through the emerald blades of grass as the morning grew to early midday.