Inside a dimly lit room, modest in both size and quality, a young elven woman stands in front of a small mirror above the room's basin. She has pale blue eyes, long, dark black hair, and a petite build, appearing about eighteen by human standards, and she's dressed in leather pants and a plain shirt of only passable quality.
Staring at her reflection with a stoic expression, she spots lighter patches of hair becoming evident around her roots. Without a change in expression, she turns and walks to a corner of the room, where a simple travel pack sits partially opened, its surface worn by many years of heavy use. Rummaging through it, the woman produces an odd metal container, which she carries back to the basin.
Facing her reflection once again, she opens the container, revealing its black, powdery contents. The woman mutters something under her breath, and a small orb of water suddenly appears above the container. The orb lowers itself into the powder, inexplicably maintaining its shape as it mixes with a fraction of the black substance.
Then, after a moment, the now dark black orb rises from the container, floating slowly to the crown of the woman's head. The orb abruptly disperses into several streams of black liquid, snaking their way towards the lighter patches of hair at the woman's roots and covering them.
This process continues for ten or fifteen minutes, until the liquid suddenly coalesces into an orb again, and falls into the basin below. The young woman, hair now pure black, scrutinizes her reflection for a moment before nodding. Then, she retrieves her travel pack from the corner of the room, dons a plain cloak, and moves to the room's only door.
She pauses for a moment in front of it, inspecting the small room that she's called home for almost a year now. The old wash basin, the small, thin mattress – the accommodations are as few as they are cheap, but she hasn't minded. There's a simplicity to it that she's come to appreciate in the ten or so years she's lived this way.
Without another thought on the matter, she turns and steps through the door.
Her pupils constrict slightly from the faint light of the rising sun, and a cool, humid breeze hits her face, followed by the distinctive scent of overturned dirt and cut grass. Around her, rows of crops stretch as far as the eye can see in almost every direction, interspersed with the occasional, simple farmhouse.
Her eyes settle on one particular house in the distance, and she begins walking towards the familiar dwelling, leaving her small, wooden shack behind. Fifteen minutes later, she arrives at the door to the farmhouse.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Her small hands rap the door firmly, and a few moments later, it opens. Standing in the doorway is a middle-aged elven woman in clothes similar to the young woman's, her face weary but her eyes sparkling with warmth. Seeing the young woman in front of her, recognition dawns on the lady's face, and her eyes widen in surprise.
"Altera...is today the day, dear?" (older woman)
Alto, or "Altera" to the people of this farming village, nods at the woman emotionlessly.
"It is." (Alto)
The woman's lips twist into a sad smile.
"I see...and you're sure we can't convince you to stay? We love having you, and that magic of yours is really something special. You're a huge help, dear." (older woman)
At the mention of her magic, Alto can't help but feel a warm swell of pride in her chest, the corners of her mouth turning faintly upward.
It's been ten years since she left Tsige. Rather than rely on Tegan's discretion, after just a few days in her destination of Oppidum, to collect her belongings from Austere Coin and purchase some supplies like the dye she uses for her hair, she left. She decided to visit the farming villages in Darak Zardo's territory, since they're friendly to strangers, quiet and secluded, and less likely to be searched by her family.
So, she's spent all these years going from village to village, taking up residence in whatever humble accommodations they have. To avoid drawing attention with her money, she even compensated them with part-time labor. It was...jarring, at first.
She was genuinely shocked by the physical demands of the labor, and by how devoid the living conditions were of what she'd once considered basic necessities. But at the same time, she was surprised by how little those things bothered her after the first few weeks. Against all odds, it wasn't even a question – she was far happier living among the poorest, common laborers than she'd been in the Silver family. No doubt that Setti Silver would have fainted in rage had he known.
As for the rest of her time? Well, naturally that was spent on magic. And gods, did her magical prowess flourish these past ten years.
The realm of advanced-tier elemental spells can't even be compared to basic-tier, neither in variety nor complexity. Yet, in her new environment, it's taken her less than ten years to achieve complete mastery over the elemental class's advanced tier. The tier...not just a fraction of the spells, but all of them. Every single advanced elemental spell known to elf kind, mastered by her with a fanaticism that bordered on mental illness.
Had she been restrained to the same schedule as when she was learning magic at Silver manor, the feat may very well have taken her a century, even with a tutor.
Yet, she didn't stop at simple spell mastery. In this past year especially, she's pushed her limits in weaving multiple spells together, particularly across different elements. Custom spells including countless dual-element, over a dozen tri-element, and even a couple all-element variants.
But now, she's finally exhausted how far she can go with the advanced-tier books she extorted out of Tegan. And that...is one of the biggest factors in her departure from this farming village. As much fun as she's had learning the various skills of a farmer and getting to know these people, her true love is for magic, and she doesn't want it to stagnate.
So, she doesn't hesitate in the face of the kind woman's implicit request for her to stay, though her eyes do soften slightly. She shakes her head.
"I am grateful for my experiences here, but it is time for me to move on." (Alto)
Hearing the firm refusal, the older woman sighs regrettably, but she doesn't push the issue. Instead, she gives Alto a warm smile.
"Then, I wish you well, dear. Where are you off to?" (older woman)
Alto gives her a small smile, hiding layers of curiosity and anticipation.
"Elven Magic Academy." (Alto)
*****
Sometime after sunset, Alto is back in Oppidum, inside her room at an inn that is jarringly luxurious compared to her recent years of accommodations. Staying in it almost feels...wasteful, to her. There were less nice rooms available in the city, of course, but most of them don't have private baths available.
She spent half the day running back to Oppidum on foot. Even using an advanced wind spell to boost her speed and conserve her stamina, and even after how tempered her body and muscles have become from a decade of farm work, she was sweaty and dog-tired when she arrived. Then, she spent the next few hours after that hunting for this inn, arranging her transportation for the morning, and purchasing a few things she'll need for her trip.
The point is...she was in desperate need of a bath.
"Hahhh..." (Alto)
She releases a small, pleasurable sigh as she slips into the hot water. After she's fully submerged, she begins inspecting the hardwood tub with a thoughtful look on her face.
'I almost forgot what it's like to have a proper bath...'
Of course, she doesn't mean that it's been ten years since she bathed, per se, just since she used an enchanted tub, hot water, and soaked like she was accustomed to as a girl in a wealthy family. During her time with the farming villages, she'd erect a privacy barrier behind her living space with earth magic, then use a combination of water and fire spells to have herself a rudimentary, warm shower most evenings.
Her gaze moves down, peering through the steam and water to inspect her own body idly. As a twenty-five years old woman, even with the slow aging of an elf, her body has undergone a lot of changes since she left home at fifteen. While she hasn't grown much taller, and remains petite, her figure is more distinctly feminine, her curves developing enticingly.
However, that's not the change that she's currently admiring with a small smile on her face. Rather, it's the lean, taut muscle evident across her body, especially around her stomach and legs. Years of laboring part time on farms was grueling, but rewarding in its own way. She can't help but muse how her father would consider her toned figure unsightly, but she loves the changes. Her strong body makes her feel...confident, in control of her life. Like she's reshaping the very foundation of who she is into what she desires.
After a while longer in the tub, she climbs out and dries her body with a combination of wind and fire spells, then moves to her room's large bed. She throws herself into its plush embrace, not even bothering to get dressed.
'Maybe...just a little...I miss having a soft bed...'
She doesn't intend to stay that way. She just wanted to lie down for a bit before getting dressed, cooling off from the bath and enjoying the soft sheets on her bare skin. Alas, not even realizing how tired she is, she falls asleep within a minute of her back hitting the exquisite mattress.
*****
Days later, Alto peers out the window of her carriage as it passes through the familiar gates, taking in the grand city around her. She wears a complicated expression on her face.
'It's like nothing's changed...'
Urilia, capital city of Uril territory, and home of the Elven Magic Academy. It doesn't look any different to her than the last time she was here, when she and Tegan had their very last 'date', a few days before she fled from her own home. For a moment, it almost feels to her like no time has passed, like nothing is different. But of course, that's not true...if nothing else, she is different, and she has no intention of going back.
Almost an hour later, the carriage finally drops her off in front of her destination...the Academy. She glances up at the massive, ornate iron gates opening before her, protecting an estate that puts even the Silver and Uril families' to shame. In the distance, she can see a majestic, white marble building of mind-boggling proportions towering over dozens of smaller buildings, like Urilia's own royal palace.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Alto walks towards the opulent structure, eventually finding herself inside its grand parlor. Looking around the room, she spots what seems like a reception desk deeper inside, staffed by a bored-looking young man in blue robes.
'He looks like he's about eighty, so...a student worker, maybe?'
She walks up to him, and he raises his eyebrows as he notices her, his voice almost dismissive.
"Can I help you?" (reception guy)
Alto tilts her head, considering the question carefully for a moment.
She knows she can't afford the tuition for the Academy as a normal student, so she needs a scholarship. According to that Professor who assessed her when she was thirteen, if she was able to so much as cast advanced elemental spells by fifty years of age, with her power and affinities, she'd be basically guaranteed a scholarship as long as he wrote a recommendation letter. And, safe to say, she's blown well past that benchmark.
Of course, she could always ask to speak to him directly and take him up on his old offer, but she's hesitant to do so. Even if she pretends to be "Altera" like she intends, what are the chances he'd not recognize her real identity if she spends too much time around him, especially with her rare affinities and power level? Even though she's an adult by elven law now, and her parents can't legally compel her to do anything, that doesn't mean they can't make her life difficult if they learn of her whereabouts. She will not risk it.
So, that only leaves her with one, incredibly dubious option. She locks eyes with the young man at reception, still waiting for her answer.
"Yes...please let any of the female professors around know that there's a magical prodigy here who'd like their recommendation for a scholarship. My name is Altera." (Alto)
The young man stares back at her, blinking repeatedly. Then, after a few silent moments, his expression finally morphs into one of exasperation. He lets out a long, dramatic sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, his voice turning annoyed.
"And to think I went almost a year without one of you delusional fuc-...haahhh, never mind. Listen girl, no offense, but I don't think you fully grasp the level of talent someone needs to-" (reception guy)
Alto holds her hand out, palm up, and begins muttering furiously, cutting off his lecture. Before he can even lash out with whatever irritated words are forming on the tip of his tongue, a seal made of water forms in the air above her palm. Then, two seconds later, a seal of fire. The young man's expression falters slightly. However, Alto doesn't stop, and less than thirty seconds after she started, four seals made of each element are simultaneously hovering in the air between them.
The man's demeanor is no longer dismissive, his eyes are glued to the hovering seals with his mouth hanging partially open, and for good reason. The spells that Alto has just cast before him have exactly one purpose, known to anyone versed in elemental magic – to convey that someone has mastered advanced-tier spell control in a particular elemental sub-class. And Alto has just cast all four in front of him...simultaneously.
Alto dismisses the spells, drawing the young man's attention back to her. She allows herself a small, confident smile.
"I also have a magic power level of almost three and a half, and I'm twenty-five years old." (Alto)
Hearing her words, the young man's face pales. After a second in stunned silence, he smiles nervously, his voice exceptionally soft.
"I...will be right back..." (reception guy)
*****