Chapter 31
A fragrance of jasmine and sea salt filled the air as Kelan stepped fully onto the dock. Barely had his boots touched the sun-warmed stone when one of the welcoming party—a smiling young woman in a flowing amber tunic—stepped forward with a garland of flowers. The blossoms were vividly orange and white, strung on a woven cord of green palm fiber. With a graceful bow, she raised the garland and placed it gently over Kelan's head.
Kelan stood very still, caught between surprise and gratitude. The flowers draped around his neck were fresh and cool against his travel-worn clothes. Their scent—sweet with a hint of citrus—immediately enveloped him. He had never been garlanded before; it was a gesture he'd only heard of in travelers' tales. He felt heat rise to his cheeks but managed to bow in return. "Th-thank you," he stammered softly.
The woman's smile broadened at his response. "Welcome to Vay'Sala," she said in accented trade tongue, her voice warm and musical.
Another attendant performed the same honor for Elenne, crowning her with a garland of deep blue and violet blossoms. Elenne accepted it with practiced ease, inclining her head and responding in the Auristazi language, which earned her a delighted laugh from the attendants.
The robed man who had first greeted them—clearly an official of some stature—clapped his hands together softly as if concluding a small ceremony. "The flowers symbolize our joy at your arrival," he explained to Kelan, switching to the common tongue for his benefit. Up close, Kelan could see the man's robes were embroidered with motifs of vines and quills—a curious combination. The man's eyes were a warm hazel and crinkled kindly at the edges.
Elenne touched Kelan's shoulder. "Kelan, allow me to introduce Aran Tal," she said. "He's an overseer from the Lyceum, sent to greet us."
Kelan's eyes widened. This kindly robed fellow was from the Lyceum itself! He straightened, mindful to be respectful. "Overseer Tal," he said politely, offering a short bow the way he'd seen the captain do earlier.
Aran Tal chuckled, a pleasant sound. "Just Tal is fine. Or Aran, if you prefer. Formalities are for formal occasions, and this—" he gestured around at the bustling dock and the informal group of greeters, "—is meant to be a friendly welcome. We're not in the hall of judgment, thank the stars."
Despite Tal's words, Kelan still felt it prudent to maintain some decorum. "Thank you, sir—I mean, Tal," he corrected himself quickly. He hoped he hadn't already committed some social misstep.
Tal didn't seem offended in the slightest. In fact, he stepped closer and gently adjusted the garland on Kelan's shoulders, as one might settle a cloak on a guest. It was a surprisingly familiar gesture that put Kelan at ease. "Elenne wrote ahead about you," Tal said, more softly. "All good things, I assure you. We at the Lyceum are very pleased you've come."
Kelan felt a flutter of relief and nerves at that statement. He nodded, not quite trusting his voice.
Meanwhile, the harbormaster Lia was overseeing the more mundane port formalities with Captain Torrin a few paces away. Kelan could see sailors unloading a few chests and sacks to the dock, where port inspectors waited to check the cargo. The crew, though clearly eager to rush into the city and find ale and fresh food, dutifully stayed to their tasks under the watchful eye of their first mate.
Tal took in the scene and gave a satisfied nod. "All in order," he said to no one in particular. Then he turned back to Elenne and Kelan. "If you are ready, we can proceed. There will be time later for your young friend here to see the harbor, but I'm sure he's eager to rest his land legs and have a proper meal ashore."
Kelan realized he had been subconsciously rocking on his heels—the ground still felt oddly steady yet swaying to him after so long at sea. "I admit, solid ground feels strange at the moment," he said with a self-conscious laugh.
One of the spearmen in the welcome party—a woman with strong arms and a face weathered by sun—overheard and grinned. In lightly accented speech she offered, "Keep a bit of ginger root in your cheek, lad. It helps with the land-sway after a voyage."
"Oh! Thank you, I'll try that," Kelan replied, surprised by her friendliness. He was about to ask if she had some when Tal interjected smoothly.
"We've prepared some refreshments just up the quay, including ginger sweets for that very reason," Tal said with a wink. "You won't be the first new arrival to step onto land and feel the earth rocking under you."
They began to move off the immediate docking area, Tal leading the way with Elenne. Kelan walked half a step behind, turning his head this way and that to absorb everything. Dockworkers rolled barrels past, chatting in Auristazi (he caught snippets he couldn't understand). A pair of children darted between crates, one chasing the other and giggling until a stern older man—perhaps their father—called them back. The air was alive with a symphony of new sounds: the rumble of cart wheels on stone, the creak of ships' rigging nearby, distant shouts of vendors carrying over the harbor walls.
As they passed under a stone arch that marked the end of the pier and the beginning of the harbor market, Kelan noticed a small shrine set into the arch's side. It held a carved wooden figure of a woman with arms outstretched, painted in faded colors, and at her feet were offerings—sea shells, bits of woven ribbon, and fresh flowers. He slowed for just a moment to observe it.
"The Lady of Tides," Elenne whispered to him, noticing his interest. "A local sea deity. It's customary for sailors to give thanks to her when returning to port."
Indeed, Kelan saw Captain Torrin approach the shrine as he left the ship, placing a coin and touching his forehead in reverence. Kelan made a mental note to pay his respects silently—after all, he too had been delivered safely by the sea.
Just beyond the arch, true land stretched out—a broad, cobbled waterfront street lined with a mix of warehouses and open-air stalls. The morning sun was climbing, casting a golden glow on everything. Kelan felt a slight tug on his sleeve; it was Tal, guiding him gently to one side to avoid a lumbering ox-cart piled high with spools of rope.
"No daydreaming in the middle of the road," Tal said kindly, as Kelan flushed and murmured apologies. "The port can be quite hectic at this hour."
They regrouped by a cluster of date palm trees that had been planted in large clay pots to decorate the harbor front. There, a small table had been set up with a pitcher and cups, and a tray of small candied ginger pieces and sliced fruit. One of the greeters poured water from the pitcher into brass cups and offered them around.
Kelan hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he took a sip. The water was cool and infused with a twist of something like mint and lemon. It was the most refreshing drink he could imagine. He eagerly accepted a second cup when offered, and tried one of the ginger sweets. It was pungent and spicy-sweet; almost immediately, the faint dizziness from "land-sway" eased.
As they paused there, Tal exchanged a few words with Elenne in their own tongue, likely discussing the next steps. Kelan didn't mind the brief lull—it gave him a chance to adjust and to truly feel present in this new place. The garland around his neck rustled softly whenever he moved, a reminder this wasn't a dream.
After the brief refreshment, Tal clapped his hands lightly. "Now, unless you have any immediate needs at the moment, shall we head toward the city proper? The Lyceum has arranged a wagon to take us up to the campus, but I thought you might prefer a short walk through the market first, to stretch your legs and get a first impression of Vay'Sala."
Elenne looked to Kelan. "What do you think? Walk a bit, or go straight to the wagon?"
Kelan's heart leapt at the suggestion of walking through the market. He was curious beyond measure to see more of the city, and despite the long journey, his legs felt restless more than tired at the moment. "I'd like to walk, if that's alright," he said.
"Excellent choice," Tal replied, clearly pleased. "We'll take a leisurely stroll through the Seaward Market, and meet the wagon on the other side." He gestured ahead to a broad street that curved along the harbor's edge, lined with stalls and shops already opening for the day's trade.
Before they set off, the young woman who had given Kelan the garland approached with a small shallow bowl made of polished coconut shell. In it was some kind of paste and a few thin sticks of wood. She spoke softly in Auristazi to Elenne.
Elenne smiled and translated for Kelan. "She offers a blessing mark—just a dot of sandalwood paste on the forehead. It's a local custom for good fortune to newcomers. Only if you're comfortable."
Kelan nodded, intrigued. The woman dipped one of the slender sticks into the golden-brown paste and then gently touched it to Kelan's forehead, right between his eyebrows. The paste felt cool and carried a soothing woody fragrance. The woman then did the same for Elenne, and stepped back, satisfied, wishing them well with a short phrase that Kelan guessed was a blessing.
"Thank you," Kelan said again, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the kindness and ritual. He felt the spot on his forehead gingerly; it was just a small dab, nothing too obvious or uncomfortable.
With that final custom observed, the formal welcoming party began to disperse, their duties done. Lia had returned to her harbor post, and Captain Torrin was already negotiating dock fees (amid some good-natured grumbling). A few of the greeters remained with Tal, likely to accompany them as an honor guard of sorts.
Tal motioned for Kelan and Elenne to walk with him. "Onward, then. Welcome truly to Vay'Sala, Kelan. I suspect this day will linger in your memory. Let's make sure it's a pleasant one, shall we?"
Kelan matched his stride to the overseer's. As they left the docks behind and ventured into the throng of the morning market, he felt the tight knot of anticipation inside him slowly unfurl into pure, delighted curiosity. The gentle weight of the garland and the faint scent of sandalwood on his skin served as constant reminders: he was here, accepted and blessed on his arrival. Whatever came next, he would meet it head-on, senses open and heart hopeful.
Chapter 32
The Seaward Market of Vay'Sala unfolded before Kelan like a living tapestry. As he walked alongside Tal and Elenne, he felt almost dizzy with the onslaught of new sights, sounds, and smells. Stalls with brightly dyed awnings crowded the wide stone street. Merchants in colorful garb stood on raised platforms or cushions, calling out their wares in ringing Auristazi that Kelan only partly understood.
The scents were the first thing to truly overwhelm him. A spice-seller's stand exuded waves of aroma: pungent turmeric, sweet cinnamon, pepper so sharp it tickled Kelan's nose. Next to it, a vendor of incense sticks released curls of sandalwood and myrrh smoke that mingled with the spice, creating an exotic perfume in the air.
It was as if the sea itself had leapt into the sky and poured back onto them. The smell would change: here the briny freshness of the fishmonger's catch displayed on crushed ice, there the sugary sweetness of a stall selling honeyed dates and nut pastries.
Kelan couldn't help but slow at nearly every stand, his eyes wide as a child's. He saw fruits he didn't have names for: spiky golden ones, fat purple pods, tiny red berries that one vendor offered skewered on a palm leaf. When he passed a heap of orange-fleshed melons, the seller—a broad man with a silver tooth—sliced a small piece and held it out to him with a grin. Kelan glanced to Tal, who gave an encouraging nod. Taking the sample, Kelan bit into it and was rewarded with a burst of juicy sweetness that dribbled down his chin. The merchant laughed in approval, and Kelan hurriedly wiped his face, grinning back. He fumbled for a coin to purchase a whole melon out of politeness, but the man waved it off, saying something Kelan didn't catch.
"He says it's a gift to celebrate your first step in Auristaz," Elenne translated with a smile.
Such generosity from a stranger astonished Kelan. He thanked the man in his own language and with a respectful slight bow, which drew another hearty laugh and a pat on Kelan's shoulder. Tal discreetly handed the melon to one of the attendants to carry, sparing Kelan the burden.
Further along, they encountered a pen of animals set up right in the market's midst. Kelan heard bleating and squawking and turned to see a trio of small goats tied to a post and a wicker cage full of brilliantly plumed birds. One bird—green bodied with a burst of red feathers on its head—mimicked the sound of a bell clanging, causing a nearby child to clap in delight. Kelan paused to admire it, marveling that such creatures existed. The animal seller noticed his interest and launched into a rapid spiel, perhaps extolling the bird's virtues.
Tal laid a gentle hand on Kelan's arm, steering him onward before the enthusiastic merchant could press a purchase. "Careful, or you'll end up leaving with a pet parrot," Tal teased. "And trust me, the dormitories won't allow it."
Kelan chuckled, realizing he had been loitering with mouth agape. "Sorry. Everything is just… amazing," he breathed.
"No apologies needed," Tal said. "It's a pleasure to see our city through fresh eyes. Reminds me not to take it for granted."
Elenne was similarly indulgent, her own gaze soft as she watched Kelan's reactions. "I remember my first time here," she mused. "I nearly tripped over my own feet staring at a troupe of acrobats performing in this very street."
"Acrobats?" Kelan echoed, looking around eagerly as if they might appear.
As if summoned by the word, a burst of laughter and clapping rose from a small crowd a little further down. "Speak of the devils," Tal said with a grin. "Shall we take a look?"
They approached a circle of onlookers gathered around a clear space in the market. Three young performers in bright harlequin outfits were in the midst of a routine. One balanced on a stack of clay pots while juggling flaming torches that left trails of smoke in the air. Another did handsprings in time to the beat of a small drum played by the third. Kelan watched in sheer wonder.
When the pots-balancing acrobat hopped down and flipped backward, landing deftly on his feet, Kelan found himself applauding heartily along with everyone else.
One of the acrobats—a girl not much older than Kelan with beaded braids—caught his eye and gave a flourishing bow directly toward him. Caught off guard, Kelan felt a flush of embarrassment, but he bowed back slightly. This earned him a few good-natured chuckles from nearby spectators, as if they too enjoyed seeing a newcomer charmed by local entertainment.
Tal pressed a small coin into a collection bowl being passed around for the acrobats and gently guided Kelan onward. "We could linger all day, but I suspect we'd never reach our destination if we did," he said cheerfully.
As they walked, Kelan realized he was drifting slightly away from Elenne and Tal, drawn by each new distraction like a bee flitting among flowers. He quickly returned to their side, not wanting to appear completely lost in his own world.
He also became aware of the variety of people around him. The locals of Vay'Sala wore an array of styles: many men in long tunics or draped shawls, trousers loose in the heat; women in flowing dresses or fitted vests over blouses, some with intricate tattoos swirling down their arms or faces. And the colors—everywhere colors. It was as if the cityfolk had coordinated with the market's goods to present a panorama of jewel tones and rich earth shades. Mixed among them were clear foreigners—sailors from distant lands with pale or dark or olive skins, clothing cut differently, speech in other tongues as they haggled for souvenirs or supplies. Yet all seemed accepted in the bustling mix.
Kelan overheard snatches of conversation. Most was Auristazi, swift and lyrical, and he only picked up a few words Elenne had taught him on the voyage ("good", "price", "thank you"). Occasionally he caught the common trade language too, usually spoken between a local and a foreign trader settling on terms.
What struck Kelan deeply was the energy—the sheer vibrancy of life in this market. Back home, the weekly market in his village square might have two dozen stalls and the biggest excitement was if a trader came from the capital with fancy fabrics. Here, it was as if the whole world had condensed into a few lively streets. Every stall promised something novel: shimmering bolts of Auristazi silk that reflected the sunlight, clay pots glazed in patterns he'd never seen, strange musical instruments with extra strings or gourd bodies, stacks of books and scrolls in languages he couldn't read, and even a small stand of medicinal herbs where a healer was grinding something with a mortar and pestle, the bitter herbal tang cutting through the sweeter smells around.
At one point, Kelan nearly walked into a hanging rack of copper wind chimes, utterly distracted by a mural painted on a nearby wall depicting a sun rising over stylized waves. The chimes clanged together, not unpleasantly but loudly, startling him. He jumped back, hands up. The shopkeeper tending the chimes—a tiny elderly woman with bright eyes—just winked at him and set the chimes back to rights, as Elenne apologized on his behalf. Kelan flushed and muttered his own apology, but the woman patted his arm lightly as if to say no harm done.
Elenne leaned in to Kelan as they moved on. "Deep breaths," she advised gently. "It is a lot to take in, I know. My first day here I felt like I was in a dream too."
Kelan nodded, inhaling and exhaling to steady himself. She was right; he needed to pace his excitement or he'd be exhausted by midday. Still, he couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. "It's just… incredible. I don't have words."
Tal overheard and chuckled. "That, my boy, is one reason Auristaz thrives. Trade, culture, knowledge—it flows through places like this market. Overwhelming perhaps, but also invigorating, no?"
"Very invigorating," Kelan agreed wholeheartedly.
As they progressed, he found himself gradually adapting. He began to anticipate when to sidestep a rushing courier carrying a stack of parcels, or when to duck under the protruding cage of chickens being carried by a farmer. He learned to listen for the tone of a merchant's call to gauge if they were addressing him or someone else. This small sense of orienting himself in the chaos gave him a bit more confidence.
They passed a series of food stalls that made Kelan's mouth water anew, despite having eaten on the ship earlier. One was grilling spiced meats on skewers over charcoal, the fat sizzling and sending up savory smoke. Next to it, a woman flipped what looked like flatbreads on a griddle, sprinkling them with chopped greens and soft cheese. His stomach gave an audible growl. Elenne raised an amused eyebrow.
Tal caught the sound too and laughed. "I did promise a proper meal, but perhaps a little snack won't ruin it." He exchanged a few quick words with the flatbread vendor, who promptly handed over a rolled flatbread filled with something steaming. Tal passed it to Kelan. "Try this—khav flatbread with spinna leaves and goat cheese."
Kelan bit in and discovered a delightful mix of flavors: the bread was chewy and warm, the greens tangy and spiced, the cheese creamy and slightly salty. "Mmm!" he managed, nodding appreciatively as he chewed.
The vendor woman beamed at his obvious pleasure. She said something in Auristazi and Tal translated with a grin, "She says a good appetite is a blessing. And that you're too skinny."
Kelan nearly choked on his mouthful out of surprise, and Elenne laughed openly. True, the weeks at sea and the recent exertions had left him perhaps a bit leaner than when he left home. He ducked his head in embarrassment, but Tal clapped him on the back reassuringly.
"No offense meant, Kelan," Tal said. "In Auristaz, robust health is often equated with a bit of meat on one's bones. We'll feed you well at the Lyceum."
Between the melon, the ginger sweet, and now the flatbread, Kelan realized just how generous everyone had been. He murmured, "I feel like…everyone is so welcoming. I didn't expect this."
Elenne shot Tal a knowing glance, then said to Kelan, "Auristazians are proud of their culture, and hospitality is a point of pride too—especially in Vay'Sala. They want visitors to carry away good memories. And perhaps," she added wryly, "to carry away plenty of purchases as well."
Tal winked. "It's true. A happy guest stays longer and spends more in the markets. But in your case, Kelan, I daresay they also see you're with us—and we take care of our own."
Kelan let those words wash over him with warmth. Our own. Already he was being counted among them, the community of the Lyceum, or perhaps even the Auristazi at large as a newcomer under their wing. It felt comforting.
As they continued, the market street began to widen and fork. Tal pointed ahead where a side lane sloped upward. "That way leads toward the upper city and the Grand Terrace. We'll go there another time. Our path is this way." He directed them along a gently curving avenue that started to ascend a low hill, lined with jacaranda trees whose purple blossoms littered the ground like a second carpet.
Kelan noticed that the crowds were thinning slightly here, the stalls giving way to more permanent shops with carved wooden signs. He saw a sign bearing a quill and scroll motif and guessed it to be a bookshop or stationer, and another with an anvil symbol likely marking a smithy.
"Is the Lyceum very far from here?" Kelan asked, feeling a flutter of nerves as the reality of his destination returned.
"Not too far," Tal assured. "It sits on the crest of that next hill." He gestured vaguely beyond the rooftops. "We'll be taking a wagon from the plaza up ahead, to spare you a steep climb after your long journey. But first, we'll pass through the central market square of this district, just beyond those arches."
As they neared a set of ornately carved stone arches that signaled the end of the harbor market, Kelan took one last glance back. From this slight elevation, he could see over the stalls they'd traversed and out to the glimmering bay beyond. The Reedwing was visible, moored safely and contentedly like a sleeping beast at the dock, the Auristazi brigantines now distant splashes of color returning to their posts.
In that moment, Kelan felt a gentle tug inside him—half nostalgia for the ship that had been his home these past weeks, and half sheer excitement for the city that embraced him now. He carried both feelings with him as he stepped under the arches into the next part of Vay'Sala, ready for whatever wonders it would present.
Chapter 33
At the top of the market street, they entered a broad plaza paved in red and cream stone. In its center gushed a tiered fountain adorned with bronze sculptures of leaping fish. The morning bustle was a little calmer here—fewer peddlers and more people going about business or converging on the plaza's benches to converse. This was where Tal had arranged for their wagon to meet them.
As they approached the fountain, Kelan noticed a pair of city guards in polished leather cuirasses standing by a decorative lamp-post. One was male, one female. The female guard appeared to be of higher rank; a short cape of deep blue hung from her shoulders and a badge gleamed at her breast. She was in conversation with an older gentleman carrying a ledger.
Tal waved to the male guard in a friendly manner and exchanged a quick greeting in Auristazi. The guards recognized him at once. The male guard smiled and inclined his head. The female guard—whom Kelan guessed might be a captain or lieutenant—turned toward their arriving party.
"Overseer Tal," she said warmly, stepping forward. Up close, Kelan saw she was perhaps in her thirties, with hair cropped at chin length and a thin scar along her jaw that somehow didn't mar her dignified appearance. Her dark eyes swept over Elenne and came to rest on Kelan with keen interest.
Tal introduced Elenne first, giving her full name and a respectful nod of deference to the guard captain. The captain greeted Elenne with a polite tilt of her head. Then Tal gestured to Kelan. "And this is Kelan, newly arrived aspirant to the Lyceum."
Kelan, recalling his manners, bowed his head as he'd done earlier. "It's an honor to meet you, Captain," he said earnestly. In his home, he would always address the town guard captain directly and respectfully, so he did the same here without a second thought.
A brief, uncomfortable pause followed. The female captain raised an eyebrow and there was the slightest stiffening in her posture. The male guard beside her darted his eyes toward his captain, then at Tal, as if measuring their reactions.
Tal smoothly cleared his throat. "Captain Reva, Kelan is just off the ship from a far western isle. He's unfamiliar with our ways as yet." His tone was courteous, a subtle apology implicit in the words.
Captain Reva's momentary coolness melted into a forgiving smile. "Of course," she said, addressing Tal and Elenne rather than Kelan. "Welcome to Vay'Sala, young man," she added, finally meeting Kelan's eyes directly after her formal reply to the others.
Kelan felt his stomach drop; he realized he must have done something wrong, though he wasn't entirely sure what. He mustered a faint smile and echoed, "Thank you, Captain," then fell silent, deciding it best not to speak further unless spoken to.
Elenne gently touched Kelan's back in a subtle gesture of support, then smoothly engaged Captain Reva in a question about the wagon arrangements. As they talked, Kelan chastised himself inwardly. The captain hadn't been rude—on the contrary, she still welcomed him—but something about the awkward pause and the way she looked to Tal first told him he'd misstepped.
Within a minute, a sturdy wagon arrived at the plaza's edge, drawn by two horses with coats of glossy chestnut. The wagon had an open sides design with a canopy top of striped fabric to provide shade. The driver—a young woman wearing the green and gold armband of the Lyceum—pulled the horses to a neat stop.
Captain Reva signaled to the guard accompanying her, and he moved off to assist the driver in positioning the wagon. Reva then gave Tal and Elenne a parting nod. "I trust the rest of your journey to the Lyceum will be pleasant. Lady Elenne, Overseer, Kelan," she said, naming them in order of seniority and giving Kelan a polite nod last of all. With that, the captain and her guard strode back to their posts by the lamp.
As soon as the guards were out of earshot, Kelan exhaled, feeling the embarrassment flush hot on his cheeks. "I did something wrong, didn't I?" he said quietly.
Tal placed a reassuring hand on Kelan's shoulder as they moved toward the waiting wagon. Elenne walked on Kelan's other side. "Nothing irreparable," Tal said in a low tone. "But yes, there are certain customs here about addressing people, especially across genders and ranks."
Kelan swallowed. "I spoke to her out of turn?"
Elenne offered him a small, kind smile. "In Auristazi culture, especially here in the capital, a man does not address a woman of higher rank unless she addresses him first. Captain Reva is a distinguished officer. By our customs, either I or Tal should have presented your greetings, and she would then invite you to speak."
Kelan's eyes widened. He replayed the moment in his head—him blurting the honorific directly. It hadn't even occurred to him that might be seen as forward. "I meant no disrespect," he said hastily. "I was trying to be polite."
Tal nodded. "We know. And so does she. That's why she took no offense beyond a brief surprise. She understood your background the moment I explained. But it's a lesson to keep in mind: our etiquette can be... particular."
They reached the wagon. The Lyceum driver hopped down. "Overseer Tal," she said with a grin, "I see you've collected our guests. All well, I trust?"
"Very well, thank you, Siva," Tal replied amicably. "We're just covering a bit of Cultural Etiquette 101 on the way."
The driver, Siva, appeared about twenty and had a cheerful face with freckled cheeks. She offered Elenne a respectful bow (clearly recognizing her as a returning Lyceum member), and then gave Kelan a curious, friendly look. Kelan, mindful now, simply nodded politely and said nothing until she spoke to him.
"Hello, Kelan, is it?" Siva said kindly as Tal helped Elenne up into the wagon. "Welcome. Don't worry, I'm just a driver—no fancy titles needed with me." She winked, perhaps sensing his recent awkwardness.
Relieved, Kelan smiled back. "Thank you. And please just call me Kelan."
Siva gestured for him to climb aboard. As he did, Elenne took a seat on one of the cushioned benches and patted the spot beside her. Kelan sat, and Tal climbed in last. Siva returned to the driver's seat and took up the reins.
With a gentle lurch, the wagon rolled forward. Kelan watched the plaza begin to drift by as they merged into the flow of traffic heading up the boulevard. He let out a breath and spoke quietly to Elenne and Tal. "I'll remember now. Wait to be introduced or addressed, especially with women of rank."
Elenne squeezed his hand briefly. "It will soon become second nature. And don't fret—Auristazi folk are generally forgiving to newcomers, as you've seen. A small blunder here or there won't earn you scorn, especially at the Lyceum where many students come from afar."
Tal added with a grin, "Just be glad you didn't commit a real faux pas, like accidentally using a royal title incorrectly or stepping on someone's prayer mat. Now those can get awkward."
Kelan managed a chuckle, though he made a mental note to watch where he stepped as well. His confidence had taken a tiny knock, but he was determined to learn quickly. Each culture had its own rules—that he knew in principle. Living them was another matter, but he would adapt.
Elenne continued, "Auristaz has its share of unwritten rules. In informal situations, you'll find women and men interact quite freely—friends, colleagues, market sellers, they all converse normally. But in formal or hierarchical contexts, like with officers, elders, or nobility, there are protocols. For instance, it's proper for a man to bow and wait for acknowledgment from a lady of high station. And women of rank often initiate handshakes or any physical greeting—men do not presume to, as a sign of respect."
Kelan absorbed this. It wasn't that women were considered delicate—far from it, given the obvious authority figures he'd seen—it was more a matter of courtesy and recognizing the social order. In a way, it reminded him of how one behaved around nobility back home, only here gender factored into that etiquette strongly.
"I think I understand," Kelan said slowly. "Observe, and take cues from those around me. Especially from the ladies." He offered a tentative smile, which made Tal chuckle again.
"Exactly so," Tal said. "You'll do fine. And if in doubt, err on the side of respectful silence until you're sure."
As the wagon carried them out of the plaza, he cast one last glance back at Captain Reva's figure, now receding amid the market throng. Despite the embarrassment, he felt a spark of admiration. A woman commanding guards and receiving such deference—it was different from home, but in a way that struck him as remarkable and fair. He found he respected the custom, even if he'd stumbled over it.
Settling back on the bench, Kelan adjusted the garland still hanging around his neck and allowed himself a small smile. He was learning, step by step, and he suspected this city and its people had many more lessons in store.
Chapter 34
Night settled gently over Vay'Sala, bringing with it a welcome coolness and a new kind of magic in the city. Kelan found himself in a lamplit courtyard not far from the Lyceum's hill, standing before a series of towering murals that took his breath away. The courtyard was part of an old colonnade along a terrace, and on its stone walls were painted grand, life-sized portraits of warrior queens from Auristaz's storied past.
Bronze braziers spaced along the colonnade cast flickering firelight upwards, making the painted figures appear almost alive in the shifting glow. Kelan stepped closer to one mural, his sandals echoing softly on the flagstones. A queen in ornate armor gazed fiercely into the distance, a curved sword raised in her hand. Her armor was midnight blue accented with gold, and a halo of stylized flames encircled her head. Despite being painted, her eyes held a vitality that made Kelan feel she could step out of the wall at any moment.
"That's Queen Sarynne," came Elenne's soft voice from just behind him. She and Tal had given Kelan a bit of space to absorb the murals on his own, but now she joined him. "Over three hundred years ago, she united the coastal clans to drive out invaders. They say her strategic brilliance was unmatched – and some believe she possessed a touch of the Mind Gift as well."
Kelan nodded silently, awed.
Kelan drifted to the third mural, the one Tal had called Queen Denira. She was depicted in robes rather than armor, a scroll in one hand and a scale in the other, as if weighing justice. Her expression was serene but resolute. "Queen Denira was a lawmaker, wasn't she?" he asked, recalling Tal's earlier reference.
Tal nodded. "Yes. Two centuries ago, Denira the Wise codified the Auristazi Charter – our fundamental laws. She founded academies and perhaps even laid the groundwork for the Lyceum's ethical teachings. Under her reign, reason and knowledge guided the kingdom."
Kelan could see the kinship Denira's image shared with the ideals he'd been taught. The painted queen seemed less fierce than Sarynne or Marada, yet there was a quiet power in her thoughtful gaze. It reminded him that leadership wasn't only on battlefields but in minds and courts as well.
He stepped to the final mural at the far end. This one immediately drew his eye for its fantastical imagery: a proud queen standing upon the coils of a great sea-serpent. The creature's scales were painted iridescent green and silver, and the queen's spear was plunged into its tail. Rain swirled around them as lightning forked the sky in the background. Kelan realized his mouth had fallen slightly open. "And this...did that truly happen?" he whispered.
Elenne laughed softly. "Queen Alysaar – she's half history, half legend. It's said she saved a port city from a monstrous sea-drake by facing it alone on the stormy shore. Some say it's metaphor for defeating a great naval invader, others believe every word. Either way, she symbolizes unyielding courage against the impossible."
He moved to the next mural. This queen was depicted with a spear braced at her side and a shield emblazoned with a sunburst. She wore a crimson cloak and had long hair flowing free. Unlike Sarynne's battle-ready stance, this queen stood in a protective pose over a group of children painted at her feet. Her expression was determined yet compassionate.
"Queen Marada," Tal supplied from Kelan's other side. "She ruled during a great famine. Rather than conquer, she's remembered for protecting the vulnerable – opening the royal granaries to feed the people, even those of enemy cities. She was as much warrior of the heart as of the field."
Elenne chuckled softly. "The murals tell a story of balance. Strength and mercy, courage and wisdom. These are qualities Auristaz honors in its leaders – especially its queens."
Kelan felt a stirring in his chest. The reverence for these women, etched in art and history, was palpable. He had never seen anything like it in his homeland. There, most statues and tapestries celebrated kings or male generals. Women in power were few and often only mentioned as consorts. Here, the most celebrated heroes of the realm were female – and not just for their beauty or grace, but for their leadership and might.
In the shifting torchlight, he let his eyes drift from one mural to the next. There were five in total along this wall, each queen from a different era, each with her own symbols: one held a scroll and quill, symbolizing law and scholarship; another stood atop a depiction of a vanquished sea serpent, signifying some great legendary feat Kelan could only guess at.
A gentle evening breeze wafted through the colonnade, carrying the distant sounds of the city at night. Somewhere far off, music was playing – a flute's airy notes mingling with the soft strumming of a lute. Closer by, Kelan could hear the crackle of the braziers and the quiet voices of a few Lyceum scholars who had accompanied them, now engaged in their own hushed conversation under one arch.
Kelan realized he felt at ease here. Despite the newness of everything, despite the challenges yet to come, standing in this courtyard among people who welcomed him and before these queens who had paved the way for such a society, he felt a sense of belonging spark to life.
"They're incredible," he murmured, eyes still on the murals. "I feel like I can almost hear their stories just looking at them."
Tal smiled, folding his arms. "Auristaz is sometimes called the Land of Queens. Our history is full of remarkable women who shaped the course of our people. That legacy still guides us. Even those of us at the Lyceum draw inspiration from it." He inclined his head respectfully toward the painted queens.
Elenne tilted her face up to the mural of Queen Sarynne. "When I first came to study, I used to stand here and imagine what it would be like to have that kind of resolve and vision. On hard days, I'd pretend Queen Sarynne was watching me, expecting me not to give up." She smiled at the memory. "Strange, perhaps, but encouraging."
Kelan looked at Elenne and realized that in her own way, she had the same spirit as these depicted rulers. She had sailed across an ocean to find and teach him, guided him through storms and foreign lands, always with calm strength. In his eyes, she deserved a mural of her own—Elenne the Wise, perhaps.
Not that he would ever say such a thing aloud and embarrass her. Instead, he said, "It's not strange at all. I think... I think I feel the same, just looking at them now. Like I don't want to let them down, if that makes sense." He glanced at Elenne, then Tal. "I've been given this opportunity to learn here. Seeing this makes me realize it's about more than just me. It's about living up to an ideal."
Tal's expression grew thoughtful and a bit proud. "You grasp much already, Kelan. The Mind Gift may set you apart, but what you do with it, how you uphold the ideals of those who came before—that's what truly matters." He gestured around the courtyard. "Every student at the Lyceum walks past these murals as a reminder: to See widely like Queen Marada, to Weigh choices like the wise Queen Denira there, to Aid bravely like Queen Sarynne, and to Withhold or show mercy like Queen Marada when needed."
Kelan's heart skipped at hearing Tal unknowingly echo the very Code he'd learned. Perhaps it wasn't coincidence that the Code aligned with these storied lives. There was a unifying philosophy in this land that permeated everything: power with principle, strength with conscience.
The sky above had turned a deep indigo, and a few stars blinked into view between the columns. One of Tal's associates—a middle-aged man with spectacles—approached with a respectfully bowed head. "Overseer, the wagon is prepared whenever you and the guests are ready." He nodded toward an open gate on the far side of the courtyard, beyond which Kelan could see the silhouettes of horses and a carriage lantern illuminating a driver's figure.
Elenne touched Kelan's arm lightly. "This is the final short leg up to the Lyceum itself," she said. Her eyes shone in the torchlight, reflecting his own mix of emotions back at him.
Kelan took a last, long look at the mural of Queen Sarynne, committing the fierce kindness in her painted eyes to memory. See, Weigh, Aid, Withhold. The principles seemed to emanate from these walls, encouraging him forward.
"Thank you for showing these to me," he said softly to Tal and Elenne. "I think I needed to see them."
Tal dipped his head. "I suspected as much. Consider it a quiet welcome from Auristaz's past, before you step into your future."
Together, they turned and made their way toward the waiting lantern-lit wagon. As they departed, the warrior queens watched over them from the walls, guardians of an ideal that Kelan silently vowed to strive for as he moved into the next chapter of his journey.
Chapter 35
The wagon rattled up the winding hill road, its lantern casting a warm halo of light that danced along the pale stone walls flanking the path. Kelan sat beside Elenne on the cushioned bench, the night air cool on his face and filled with the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves. Each turn of the wheels carried him closer to the Lyceum—a destination that had lived in his imagination for months and was now moments away.
Beyond the reach of the wagon's lantern, Vay'Sala stretched out below in a constellation of lights. From this elevation Kelan could pick out the glow of streetlamps tracing the avenues, and farther off, the twinkle of harbor beacons at the bay's edge. The city felt peaceful at this hour, the daytime clamor subdued to a murmur punctuated occasionally by distant laughter or a closing market stall's clatter. Overhead, a waxing moon peeked through thin clouds, silvering the rooftops and the crest of the hill ahead.
Kelan realized he was gripping the edge of the bench with one hand. He forced himself to relax his fingers. In his other hand, he still clutched the fragrant flower garland he'd been given; he had removed it while viewing the murals, and now he found himself fidgeting with it, twisting the soft cord nervously. Elenne noticed and laid her hand gently over his to still it.
"Nervous?" she asked softly, though the answer was evident.
He managed a small smile. "A bit. Maybe more than a bit."
Elenne's eyes crinkled kindly. "That's normal. I was terrified my first time going up those gates, you know."
"You were?" Somehow Kelan had always imagined Elenne gliding into the Lyceum with perfect composure.
"Oh yes," she laughed under her breath. "Heart pounding, wondering if I belonged. It's a threshold most students feel apprehensive crossing." She looked ahead, where the road leveled out. "But I can assure you, you do belong, Kelan."
He followed her gaze. Two grand pillars appeared on either side of the road, carved with spiral patterns and the Lyceum's emblem—an open eye overlaid on a stylized hand. Between them wrought-iron gates stood open, awaiting their arrival. Beyond, Kelan glimpsed a courtyard illuminated by hanging lamps and the silhouettes of several buildings with arched windows and domed roofs.
His breath caught. This was it—the Lyceum of Mind Touch.
As the horses pulled the wagon under the gateway, the driver Siva slowed them to a gentle stop in the courtyard. The space was broad and paved in mosaic tiles that formed the image of a radiating sun. Even in the dim light, Kelan could make out benches flanked by potted moon-bloom flowers and a central fountain (dry at this hour) with a sculpture of intertwined hands.
Waiting at the courtyard's edge were a handful of figures. An elderly man in flowing academic robes, leaning lightly on a cane, and two younger attendants with lanterns. Their faces were in shadow, but as Kelan carefully stepped down from the wagon, one of the attendants lifted a lantern to guide his way, and the light revealed warm smiles rather than stern frowns.
Elenne stepped down beside Kelan, and he noticed she straightened her posture, smoothing her travel-worn cloak. He did the same with an unconscious tug at his tunic. The robed elder approached at a measured pace, and as he entered the ring of lantern light, Kelan saw keen, dark eyes set in a wizened face, and a chain of office glinting against the man's chest.
"Master Deren," Elenne greeted respectfully, inclining her head.
"Elenne, my dear, welcome home," the old man replied, his voice surprisingly strong. He then turned those perceptive eyes on Kelan. Kelan felt rooted to the spot; this gentle-looking elder radiated a quiet authority that made Kelan's earlier nerves surge back anew.
"And you must be Kelan," Master Deren said. There was curiosity and kindness in his tone. "We are very pleased to receive you at last."
Kelan remembered to bow, placing a fist to his chest in the Auristazi style Tal had coached him on earlier during supper. "It's an honor to be here, Master," he said earnestly. He hoped his voice didn't quiver.
"Come, there's no need for ceremony at this hour," Master Deren chuckled softly. "You've had a long journey. We'll have plenty of time tomorrow for introductions and formal welcomes in the daylight."
He gestured for them to follow. The attendants took the horses' reins to lead the wagon away to the stables, while Siva waved a quick goodnight to Kelan with a grin before driving off. Kelan felt a pang of gratitude toward her and all the others who had helped him reach this point.
Elenne and Kelan fell into step behind the Lyceum elder. They passed under a columned walkway where lamp-light pooled in golden circles on the polished marble floor. Kelan's eyes were everywhere—taking in the ornate tile work along the walls, the faint echoes of their steps, the scent of old paper and jasmine oil that seemed to permeate the halls beyond the courtyard. It felt sacred and scholastic all at once.
Master Deren glanced over his shoulder with a small smile. "I recall that look in my own eyes, many decades ago. Drink it in, lad. The first night at the Lyceum is a memory one carries forever."
They emerged into another smaller courtyard where a single tall lamp post burned brightly, moths flitting in and out of its glow. "We've prepared a room for you in the Novice Wing," Deren said. "Elenne, we assumed you'd take quarters in the Fellows' House, but if you'd prefer to stay near your student for tonight, we can certainly—"
"The Fellows' House is fine, Master," Elenne assured. She touched Kelan's arm. "His independence begins now, after all." There was pride and a touch of sadness in her voice.
Kelan realized this meant Elenne would not be just down the hall, as she had been on the ship. He was truly stepping into a new world on his own. The thought was both thrilling and daunting.
Master Deren gave a pleased nod. "Very good. One of our Fellows here will show you to your quarters, Kelan. You'll find a fresh uniform and necessities laid out, and you can get some rest." He paused, then placed a wrinkled yet steady hand on Kelan's shoulder. "Know this: you are welcome here. All of us at the Lyceum are dedicated to helping you grow into your gifts and responsibilities. We've eagerly awaited your arrival, and we have faith you will make good of this opportunity."
Emotion swelled in Kelan's chest. He felt the weight of the journey, the storm, the countless new impressions of Vay'Sala, and the hopes he carried—for himself, for those who had guided him—crystallize into a simple, profound gratitude. "Thank you, Master Deren. I won't let you down," he said quietly, fervently.
The elder's eyes twinkled. "It's not about not letting us down, my boy. It's about rising up. We will help you, and you will help yourself. Now, get some sleep. Tomorrow, a new chapter truly begins."
As Master Deren moved off with one attendant, the remaining one—a kindly-faced woman holding a lantern—beckoned Kelan to follow her down a side corridor toward the Novice Wing. Elenne and Kelan exchanged a final glance.
This was the parting of their journey together, at least for now. Kelan felt a lump in his throat. "Elenne... I—" he began, not even sure what he meant to say. Thank you? Don't leave me? I'll make you proud? Perhaps all of it.
But Elenne simply pulled him into a brief hug, lantern light glowing around them. "You're ready, Kelan," she whispered. "Remember what you've learned. And remember that I'm never truly far—I'll be here at the Lyceum for a while, and always in your corner."
He nodded against her shoulder, blinking away the prick of tears that threatened. "I'll remember. And... I couldn't have come this far without you."
She squeezed his arm and then released him. "Off you go then. I expect to hear all about your first lessons soon." Her smile was bright, unwavering.
With reluctance and excitement intermingled, Kelan stepped back and dipped his head respectfully to his mentor. "Good night, Elenne."
"Good night, Kelan," she replied softly.
He turned and walked toward the lantern-bearing guide who waited patiently. As he followed the guide through the archway into the Novice Wing, Kelan looked over his shoulder one last time. Elenne stood under the arch of the courtyard, a proud silhouette framed by lamplight, watching him go.
Kelan took a deep breath and crossed the threshold.
Hope and apprehension warred within him, but hope was winning. He clutched his garland of flowers and the memories of all it symbolized—welcome, friendship, promise. He thought of the Code of the Mind Touch, the warrior queens watching from their murals, the storm he had overcome, and the path now unfolding.
This is where I am meant to be, he told himself.
And with head held high, Kelan stepped forward into the dawn of his new life at the Lyceum.