The classrooms in Kaldere Academy are a known oddity. Each classroom within the Academy has a distinct temporal space in which it resides, separate from the rest of Keceo. One classroom can be the size of a castle, while another can be the size of a closet. Every room within Kaldere Academy is unique, although the curriculum doesn't often match the appearance of the room. Ancient magic, known only to the Kalderes, was used to create these fantastical classrooms, all built with a singular idea in mind. Often recited as the school's motto: "Seeking Connection is Seeking Strength."
These rooms weren't created solely for decoration. It is this idea of surrounding oneself with diverse environments that fosters a better understanding of the world and a more fulfilled soul. However, with the banishment of the Kalderes, the knowledge of maintaining these spaces has been lost. With time, their luster has faded, but they remain an exotic and delightful experience to all who attend the ancient Academy.
Excerpt from Unexplained Anomalies written by Ferseo Dumble
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Burning. Almost unbearable, briefly. Then, reprieve like a sudden snowstorm on a summer afternoon.
This is how some would describe consuming what the Chosen One was drinking. A firefade.
It was a tea with a sweet, honey-like flavor rather than a floral one.
It had a burning sensation similar to cayenne peppers as it was swallowed. Each subsequent sip reduced the heat, like eating ice cream—the sweetness and flavor built as the drink neared its end, making it an addictive experience.
It was surprising how delicious the drink was, even though the first sip was entirely unpleasant; the pleasure derived from subsequent sips far outweighed the initial discomfort.
The steam from the glass goblet rose and fogged Gwyn's glasses. The currently unnamed elf sat across from her and sipped his drink, a simple, black coffee. Even in this fantasy realm, some things remained constant.
The café was filled with elves of all ages. It was a soft, quiet atmosphere, where people spoke in low voices as they enjoyed their baked goods and preferred drinks. The whirring of machines that fed off magic incantation was soft and calming rather than clunky and industrial.
Occasionally, Gwyn would look up from her drink to the elf across from her. The idea of sitting in front of a dark-haired, brooding, elven man, who was tall and had a deep voice, nearly made Gwyn roll her eyes.
Why was he there? Why is he showing interest in me? Is it because I'm the Chosen One?
Her head was swimming with different possibilities.
"So?"
He finally said. He made no effort to force a conversation; he just ordered the Chosen One a drink he thought she would enjoy. They have been sitting in a pleasant silence ever since.
"So?"
Gwyn echoed, not knowing what to say.
He raised his goblet to his mouth and took a small sip.
"What do you think?"
"It's good." Gwyn looked into her drink as she finished the last of it. "Nothing like I have back home or that I've tried, at least."
The elf nodded.
"Do you miss home?"
Gwyn didn't answer. She stared at the elf across the table and then looked all around the café, where dozens of people were chatting over their drinks. She looked through the large window adjacent to her at the bustling streets and the collection of elves that passed by.
The sight of all the people made her realize the oddity that sat across from her. There was an assumption to Gwyn that every elf would be attractive. Yet, that was not the case. This person was a step above most, attractive. Insanely attractive, actually. A total smoke show. Probably the hottest person—
Gwyn shook her head.
He smiled occasionally as he caught a glimpse of the Chosen One. If she took the time to look at the elf, she would notice.
She finally asked.
"How did you get the giant crowd to leave?"
"Magic."
He held out his hands and made an arcing motion like a rainbow.
Gwyn waited a moment to see if he had anything else to add. When he just gave her a curt smile, she asked.
"For real? That's it?"
"Yep. They were so obsessed with interacting with you that a simple illusion spell fooled them."
A hint of intrigue was in her voice.
"What did you do exactly?"
"I created an illusion in a robe, about your height, running off. 'Somehow, we missed her!' They must have thought as they chased a literal ghost."
"But why do that in the first place?"
Without hesitation he said.
"If I were a young woman with a horde of young men practically begging to see me, I would want help too." He looked embarrassed for a moment. "I, admittedly, fell to the hype. You have been a hot topic today."
"So you were part of the creep tornado trying to grab me?"
Gwyn jested.
He laughed.
"Absolutely, not." He raised his eyebrows, and a crease formed at the edge of his lips. "Unless…"
A smile formed on her lips as well, but she did not respond. She just stared at her cup, then up at the elf. She then gave the elf a long look, memorizing their features.
The elf before her had shoulder-length, dark hair that was a little messy. They wore a long-sleeved black doublet, with silvery patterns near the buttons. It must've felt tight because it sculpted his body perfectly, leaving little to the imagination.
Shame he covers all that…
She shook her head again.
Am I being a pervert right now?
She looked back at him. His jaw was like stone. A five o'clock shadow gave him a mature appearance. His blazing amber eyes met hers, and Gwyn realized she hadn't learned his name yet.
"Thank you for helping me out. If I may ask... What's your name?"
"Oh. Had I forgotten to tell you?" He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Artero, it's a pleasure to meet you, Gwynevere."
"Likewise."
Gwyn gazed down at her empty cup and thinking this guy was trying way too hard for her to like him. Regrettably, it was working.
After some time, the elf voiced a concern he had.
"Why wear the robe?"
"Oh, the Head Whisperer gave it to me. It does a half decent job at hiding my identity. I'm trying to remain unnoticed for the time being."
"You've no need to hide. People don't hate you, Gwynevere."
There it was again.
Artero's voice was so deep and soothing that it made her skin crawl. It contained a hint of an accent. It made her want to listen to him for hours on end. So pleasant it almost became unpleasant.
"How do you know? Are you aware of the expectation placed upon me?"
His lip curled slightly.
"I am aware." He looked out the window beside him, then back to Gwyn. "Some people are mad, that is true. However, it isn't as if anyone is out to get you. We have things more important to deal with."
"Like what?"
"Like… Caretaking our new savior. Is it true you haven't manifested your special ability yet?"
"No, and I'm not sure I know what that is." She laughed out of frustration. "People haven't explained much to me as of yet."
"Well, we have a place to start then."
Gwyn leaned back, crossing her arms.
"Wait a moment. Why are you helping me? What are you getting out of this?"
Artero didn't answer for some time. He finished his drink then said.
"Kindness goes a long way, don't you know?"
It was just then that Gwyn noticed he wore a singular glove of blackened leather. The palm hid something Gwyn couldn't see.
"Speaking of kindness, would you like another firefade, Gwynevere?"
She gazed up from her empty glass and looked at the elf.
It was delicious… I guess one more couldn't hurt.
She nodded to confirm her desire. She watched him walk to the counter. The firefade's flavor danced on her tongue. Lingering like a warm kiss, the heat even reached her lips.
A robed figure entered the café, and Gwyn instinctively could sense a change. It was almost like the air itself was warning her. Her skin tensed, and goose pimples crept up her arms and neck. She stared at Artero, who was now making his way back.
"Isn't it weird how people hide their faces here?"
"You're wearing a robe right now, Gwynevere." He set Gwyn's refilled drink on her side of the bronze-trimmed table, placing the new goblet next to the old one. "Do you know the purpose?"
"I do not."
Gwyn eagerly took the first sip, which indeed burned like fire in her throat just like before. She coughed.
Artero smirked.
"It's religious."
"Religious? Well, what religion is it?"
A second sip soothed the burning. The goosebumps faded.
"We don't remember."
"How do you not remember?"
"A lot of time has passed." He thought deeply about what he was about to say. "Don't your people have things they don't remember from before their time?"
Gwyn stopped and thought of B.C. and A.C., how time was split in two. Most people only had surface-level knowledge of the past, and Gwyn knew this.
"I suppose that makes sense. I'm sorry for being insensitive."
He looked out the window. He saw the children holding hands with their parents and how joyful most people were within the safety of Capital City.
"Nothing to be sorry for. Your feelings weren't malicious."
"I know but..."
"A lot of our people have died because of the Red Death." Artero interrupted Gwyn, finally answering her question. "Those you see now are survivors. We are all that is left."
"We, as in… the elves?"
His jaw tensed.
"Yes, what they call the 'minor races' had their cities exterminated shortly after the Red Death arrived, or so we are told."
"Why weren't the elves destroyed?"
Gwyn asked but realized the answer.
"The Wall. It's all that stands between us and what's out there. It used to span from sea to sea. Now? We are just rats in a cage."
Artero's words were laced with shame and anger.
"It won't fail, right? The Wall?"
She had no idea what the Red Death looked like, nor did most people. But something as menacingly named as "Red Death" let her imagination run wild.
Artero sipped his drink and placed it down.
"I certainly hope not."
The surface of his drink was disturbed in an unnatural way when it was placed back on the table. The goosebumps returned to Gwyn.
"It's been around four thousand years, and there's been no noticeable sign of its failing. Other than the fact that it's been consistently shrinking."
Gwyn thought about this and wondered how magic like that had been sustained for so long.
"How is it maintained?"
"No one alive knows, but people have their theories."
"Like?"
Artero leaned forward and whispered.
"The first Whisperer, Vecro."
A bald elf with red runes crudely carved into their face revealed himself once they lowered their hood. They shouted, disrupting the peaceful bliss of the quiet conversations within the café.
"Fire within me,
rise to the surface!"
Artero halted his conversation with Gwyn and looked behind him, a confused expression on his face.
The strange elf continued.
"May I revel and float,
as soft as a bird is!"
"Get down!"
Artero shouted, raising his gloved hand. Time crawled. He was the only one who knew what was about to happen.
"When the King of Terror comes,
He'll leave you all wordless!"
The figure bellowed. He had finished his spell.
The elf pointed his wand at the ceiling. A red light started at the tip, but it traveled back down towards the wielder instead of leaving the catalyst. The red engulfed him.
Artero stood up, nearly throwing the chair across the café as he pushed it aside. He pointed his hand, palm facing the stranger. The elf who cast the spell began to twist and expand like a balloon being inflated rapidly.
Poof.
A flash.
Gwyn was engulfed by the sun itself.