On the first day of Mirtul, Aeron found himself studying into the late hours of the evening. He finished struggling through a recent copy of an old Mulhorandi text on the wizards of ancient Raumanthar and wandered over to the library to replace it. The musty smell of old books, the endless aisles of gleaming wooden shelves, and the unearthly silence of the chamber always soothed him. He'd come to know the place well in his months at the college, and these days he probably spent more time here than he did in his room. Absently he made his way to the shelf from which he'd taken the treatise and put it back.
Aeron had run across some interesting references in the book. Although the modern copy was only about a century old, the original manuscript had been penned a few years before the wars that destroyed Raumanthar more than fourteen centuries ago. He searched the nearby shelves for some of the texts mentioned by the ancient Mulhorandi writer, with little luck. He turned his attention to the extensive scroll racks along one wall of the library. Aeron flinched at the imposing wall full of scroll cases, but he patiently set to work.
After a long hour of examining librarians' cryptic notes, Aeron finally tracked down one of the scrolls he sought. He pulled it from its place in the rack with care; it was as long as his forearm and weighed ten pounds or more. He carried it over to a table in a dark corner and spread it out to make sure he'd got the right one. The text was in a language he'd never seen before. 'What in Faerun?' he murmured. It seemed that the wrong scroll had been placed in the case.
Aeron shrugged and started to roll up the parchment again, thinking that he would bring the matter to the attention of the Master Librarian in the morning. Then his eye fell on a cryptic set of marks at the top of the page. The runes were oddly curved and punctuated with weird whorls and dots. He frowned. Something about the writing seemed familiar, although he was certain he'd never seen any example of this language in print. Where could he have seen something like this?
His heart lurched in his chest and he gasped in shock. He remembered where he'd seen it, all right-gracing the dull silver band that circled the claw of the creature that killed Master Raemon! The ominous runes in front of his eyes returned his thoughts to the frigid night in the ruins of the pyramid. He glanced around involuntarily to see if any monstrous things lurked in the dark aisles between the bookshelves, but the library was silent and empty.
With trembling fingers, he unrolled more of the parchment. 'What is this?' he whispered. The familiarity of the runes was one thing, but without any idea of the language, he had no idea what they meant. He scanned ahead, despairing of ever solving the riddle-and then he saw his key. A second column of text began, running parallel to the unreadable glyphs. A translation into Old Rauric! I might be able to read it, Aeron thought.
Quickly he bundled up the new scroll he'd found, stuffed it under his cloak, and hurried out of the library. Aeron returned to his room and spread out the Rauric text, rummaging for some rag paper and a quill to begin his transliteration of the document.
In less than ten minutes, he gave up, his heart sinking. The scroll was encrypted in some unknown cipher. Whatever knowledge the mysterious runes and whorls held, it was not meant to be read casually. Aeron frowned, trying to decide what to do.
Blam! A massive fist rocked Aeron's writing desk through the wall, stunning him. Angry and frightened voices replaced the laughter outside. 'What in the world are they up to out there?' he wondered aloud. He rose and stuck his head out the door.
As he expected, Baldon and Eldran were at the bottom of it. The far end of the hall was smoking with an acrid reek, and the walls and floor were marked with sooty streaks. A couple of small fires burned up and down the hall, adding to the smoke and stink. Aeron looked at Baldon. 'What was that?' he asked.
'Oh, sorry, Aeron. Eldran and I were trying to work a spell, and-'
'I can see that. What happened?'
'I mispronounced a word, and he tried to correct me in the middle of the invocation.' Baldon grinned sheepishly. 'We got a little more than we bargained for.'
'I'll say you did, you goat-brained fish!' Roaring in anger, Dalrioc Avan strode out of the smoke, his fine garb smoking from several burned patches. Aeron started to laugh at the comical scene, but the guffaw died in his throat when he saw the look in Dalrioc's face. The older student was enraged beyond reason. With contempt, he raised his hands and barked a harsh syllable, sending streaks of magical energy darting at both novices. Eldran was struck in the midsection; he clutched his belly and dropped to his knees, groaning. Baldon tried to twist away, but the streaking energy curved to follow him and charred a fist-sized patch of his shoulder. He screamed, staggering against the wall.
'Dalrioc! Have you lost your mind? That spell can kill!' Aeron found himself in the middle of the hall, facing the prince, before he even realized he'd moved. 'For Azuth's sake, they're just novices! They didn't mean it!'
'Out of my way, peasant!' Dalrioc bellowed. 'I'm going to see that they never befoul my hall again!'
'I agree that they should be punished, Dalrioc, but not with deadly force,' Aeron began.
The Corynian prince ignored him and pushed by. He seized Eldran by the shoulders, raised him from the floor, and kicked him in the belly, right where his spell had struck. Eldran coughed and crumpled, retching. Dalrioc drew his foot back to kick the novice on the ground.
Anger ignited in Aeron's heart. When Dalrioc leaned back to kick the novice again, Aeron dropped and scissored his legs through the prince's, toppling him to the cold stone floor. The older student flailed in anger, twisted quickly, and barked the words for another spell. With one hand, he grasped Aeron's ankle, and a fat blue spark of energy flashed. Aeron was hurled backward as every muscle in his body spasmed at once. He crumpled against the wall, the smell of his own burning flesh in his nose. 'You dare to strike me?' Dalrioc snarled, surging to his feet. 'You dare?'
Shaking his head, Aeron looked up just in time to see the prince spinning to lash a kick at his head. He held his hand up, palm outward, and spoke a single word. A circular field of gleaming force sprang from his hand, creating a lambent shield that halted Dalrioc's kick with the mass of a stone wall. The prince recoiled, staggering back a few steps, and Aeron pushed himself to his feet, his mind racing. What next? Dalrioc was almost frothing at the mouth. He'd use any spell at his command and damn the consequences. Aeron needed to either subdue him quickly or leave … but if he fled, the prince might take out his anger on Baldon and Eldran, neither of whom could defend himself.
Dalrioc narrowed his eyes, glaring at Aeron. Deliberately he crooked his hands and started to bark out the words of another spell. Aeron started his own enchantment, but the prince finished first. With a sulfurous stink, a small, warty thing with the jaws of a bulldog and fangs like needles appeared in the hallway. It snuffled and growled. 'Kill him!' Dalrioc screamed, pointing at Aeron. The creature bunched its stringy muscles and leapt with impossible speed and precision, jaws gaping. .
. . right into Aeron's counterspell. He'd meant it for Dalrioc, but the summoned horror seemed a more immediate threat. Seizing the Weave's delicate currents with unconscious ease, he braided them into a roaring jet of flame that burst out from his hands. It struck directly in the creature's face, impaling it on a lance of white agony. The thing discorporated with an agonized howl. Behind the creature, Dalrioc retreated a few steps and shielded himself from the heat, but the billowing fires scorched him badly.
Aeron blinked to clear his eyes, trying to get a good look at Dalrioc. A seething green sphere of acid came hurtling from the smoke, but Aeron's shield still held, and the corrosive splashed harmlessly against the wall. It sizzled and smoked fiercely, adding to the stink. Aeron closed his eyes, hummed, and quickly grasped the chords of magic that flowed through the living hearts nearby, working a spell of sleep, but Dalrioc's force of will was too great to overcome, and the prince shrugged off his attempt. With a malevolent grin, Dalrioc spoke a few harsh words and crushed Aeron's shield with a countermagic spell. 'You'll rue the day you ever crossed my path,' he crowed. He began another spell.
'Believe me, I already do,' Aeron replied. He was running out of options quickly. Do I dare to attack with any more deadly spells of my own? he thought. Ignoring the hot pain that burned in his injured leg, he searched desperately for the right spell. Wait. . perfect! Aeron reached out and summoned the energy for a spell of blindness, and this time he beat Dalrioc to the punch. He danced aside and called, 'You can't hit what you can't see, Dalrioc!'
The prince howled in rage as Aeron wrested his sight away, losing the spell he was attempting to cast. He thrashed helplessly for a moment. 'Damn you, Aeron! This is a coward's trick!'
'Well, you should have saved your counterspell instead of wasting it on my shield,' Aeron replied. 'Now can we put a stop to this?'
