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ID: Nvh1BTbG/qst/6261156#6278593
7/22/2025, 3:41:58 AM
>>6278009
Finally, an audience with the people who were running this show. You’d see for yourself what these Sages were made of. Maybe you might even find out something that could prove useful to your cousin. You grunt your approval towards the mages. As your companions move to join you, the lead mage holds his hand out, barring their passage.
“Apologies, but this meeting is for Tristain d’Rusalka only.”
“That’s fine. We don’t want to go to that dump you call a ‘College’ anyway.” Chelsey snorts. “Hurry up and get on with it, Tristain. I’ll show the others around while you speak with those geezers.”
The mages ignore the dancer’s rudeness. As they begin walking away, you shrug your shoulders in resignation, joining them. They don’t seem interested in making conversation with either you or each other, and much of the walk over to the College is done so in silence. It isn’t until you finally ask them a pertinent question that you overcome their silent treatment, prompting the lead mage to talk to you.
>“So, what are these guys’ names again?”
“...You’re trying to be the king of this country and you don’t know the names of the Royal Sages?” The lead mage mutters in exasperation. “What’s with you foreigners…? This isn’t just a game, you know? It’s got real consequences.”
>“Look, just tell me and maybe I’ll make it worth your while once I’m king.”
He sighs, relenting to your demands. “Lycus, the Anima Sage. Nicon, the Light Sage. Chryson, the Dark Sage. And Dexithea, the Healing Sage. Each of them specializes in a different pillar of magic.”
Oh right, you think Chelsey had told you of these guys before. Lycus in particular was a name that was familiar. He was the one 99 had told you about back in Ithaca. The Sage that had turned her into a magic seal. You wondered what sort of other freaky experiments these Sages were getting up to.
After walking for some time, you finally arrive at the Royal College of Morfis. Just as this country’s Royal Palace put the one back in Fodlan to shame, the College is no different. The Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach looks like a playground compared to the grounds of this sprawling campus. The courtyard is vast, lush, and green, with dozens of people in uniform wandering about. Several carry large tomes under their arms, while others practice their magic outside, weaving arcane sigils in the air. You think to keep an eye out for Alvin, but the Adjunct is nowhere to be found. You are given a few choice stares by some of the mages, but the number is less than what you experienced wandering the streets of Morfis with Chelsey.
“Don’t look so disappointed.” The lead mage says, reading the look on your face. “You’re hardly the first contender the Sages have met with.”
>“No, but I am the best. As you and the rest of the mages here will soon find out.”
“Right…” The man says, unconvinced.
Finally, an audience with the people who were running this show. You’d see for yourself what these Sages were made of. Maybe you might even find out something that could prove useful to your cousin. You grunt your approval towards the mages. As your companions move to join you, the lead mage holds his hand out, barring their passage.
“Apologies, but this meeting is for Tristain d’Rusalka only.”
“That’s fine. We don’t want to go to that dump you call a ‘College’ anyway.” Chelsey snorts. “Hurry up and get on with it, Tristain. I’ll show the others around while you speak with those geezers.”
The mages ignore the dancer’s rudeness. As they begin walking away, you shrug your shoulders in resignation, joining them. They don’t seem interested in making conversation with either you or each other, and much of the walk over to the College is done so in silence. It isn’t until you finally ask them a pertinent question that you overcome their silent treatment, prompting the lead mage to talk to you.
>“So, what are these guys’ names again?”
“...You’re trying to be the king of this country and you don’t know the names of the Royal Sages?” The lead mage mutters in exasperation. “What’s with you foreigners…? This isn’t just a game, you know? It’s got real consequences.”
>“Look, just tell me and maybe I’ll make it worth your while once I’m king.”
He sighs, relenting to your demands. “Lycus, the Anima Sage. Nicon, the Light Sage. Chryson, the Dark Sage. And Dexithea, the Healing Sage. Each of them specializes in a different pillar of magic.”
Oh right, you think Chelsey had told you of these guys before. Lycus in particular was a name that was familiar. He was the one 99 had told you about back in Ithaca. The Sage that had turned her into a magic seal. You wondered what sort of other freaky experiments these Sages were getting up to.
After walking for some time, you finally arrive at the Royal College of Morfis. Just as this country’s Royal Palace put the one back in Fodlan to shame, the College is no different. The Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach looks like a playground compared to the grounds of this sprawling campus. The courtyard is vast, lush, and green, with dozens of people in uniform wandering about. Several carry large tomes under their arms, while others practice their magic outside, weaving arcane sigils in the air. You think to keep an eye out for Alvin, but the Adjunct is nowhere to be found. You are given a few choice stares by some of the mages, but the number is less than what you experienced wandering the streets of Morfis with Chelsey.
“Don’t look so disappointed.” The lead mage says, reading the look on your face. “You’re hardly the first contender the Sages have met with.”
>“No, but I am the best. As you and the rest of the mages here will soon find out.”
“Right…” The man says, unconvinced.
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