The Great hall was more than just a place of learning. It was the heart of Frosthelm.
It kept scripts and books that the humans had long before the march north.
Its thick walls were strong enough to resist even the worst of storms.
As Thalos stepped inside he raised a hand to shield his eyes, squinting at the massive antler hanging above the hall.
He saw the blue glow streaked across the arched wooden beams, pulsing like veins of magic.
His gaze came down on the massive firepit at the end of the room.
The cold blue above clashed with the red of the fire, meeting in the middle in what looked like drifting purple.
He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. No matter how many times he had seen it, it always made him uneasy.
Garrick threw an arm around Thalos's shoulder.
"Hey! Come on, did you forget? If we are late again, we have to clean the Snowstrider stalls"
Thalos shuttered, he had done that once, it took days to get the stench off of him.
They quickly headed to the western wall as Elara pushed open the wooden door.
Rows of wooden benches lined the rooms, students sat on furs and leathers placed on the floor. The small braziers that lined the walls made the cold more bearable, but his breath was still faintly visible in the air.
He sat on a pile of frostfox fur. Garrick took a seat beside him, sitting crossed-legged and crossed armed.
"I can't wait till we are older and we can start using a sword" Garrick's voice sounded distracted.
Thalos didn't reply, he thought of what he would do once he turned seventeen. He thought about spending the rest of his life cutting wood, leaving to hunt like his father. Would he be stuck in Frosthelm all his life?
Then Mistress Elwen entered and walked to the front of the room. She was a thin woman, dark hair pulled back tightly, with fur and beads that rattled softly every time she moved.
She clapped her hands twice. It was something she did, it was her way of saying the class was about to begin, the murmurs and voices slowly fell into silence as she scanned the room looking at each student before starting.
"Now then everyone, are we ready to begin?" She turned and walked to the front of the class. "Today I have a surprise, we are going to talk about the other races"
Thalos shifted at the thought. History lessons were more frustrating than fascinating. Frustrating because we know so little.
Mistress Elwen folded her arms "Who here knows the other races ?"
A girl near the front of the class answered. "Elves, Small people, And beast people!"
small chuckles made their way through the class. Thalos saw Elara shaking her head.
"Close lyra, Elves, Dwarves, and Beastmen, though beast people aren't wrong. We have come to call them Beastmen"
Mistress Elwen turned and pulled back rows of hanging furs. Behind them was a large map carved in tanned hide. She picked up a small bone that was shaped into a fine point at the end.
"As everyone knows our world is called Beloria. We were pushed away from the main lands, and forced to live in the north."
Her hands started in the middle of the map that read 'Beloria', and slowly trailed up to the top middle of the map, just under drawings of mountains with the text 'Frosthelm'.
"From the last time we heard about them, the dwarves took over the eastern fields and kept going east, our books tell us that there are massive mountains that the dwarves carved into."
The bone pointer drifted back down to the middle right, as she moved her hand until the pointer was off of the map.
Thalos followed the pointer. He had heard of the other races, but no one talked about them. Why did they attack us? Why hasn't any other race come looking for us?
A sharp crackling of bone to hide brought Thalos back to the lesson.
Mistress Elwen struck the hide with the bone pointer, right at the center of the map.
"The middle fields and south once belonged to us and the beastmen, and to the far west past the Vyrath river the elves used their magic to seal themselves off from the rest of the world."
Her hand moved from the far right, to the far left of the map, then tracing the massive river that circled around the entire continent, streams and rivers cutting far into land. She turned back to the class
"Any questions?"
A few hands shot up into the air. She picked a young boy near the back.
"Why do they hate us?"
"Good question. We don't know the exact answer, but there was a large war that drove us here"
Brynn's voice came next, loud, her arms crossed with an annoyed look on her face."Then why didn't we just fight back? We could've pummeled those weaklings!"
Mistress Elwen smiled softly. "You should really raise your hand Brynn, But we did fight back, and we lost, as you all know humans can't use magic. And that was our biggest weakness."
The class fell silent, they didn't often talk about magic, or the wonders of the world. But compared to the other races, humans were the least gifted, and they all knew that.
Mistress Elwen reached for a book that was behind her table. Its deep emerald cover absorbed the blue glow from above and the orange flames lining the walls, making the silver text shimmer like untouched ice under the sun.
The letters along its spine, unlike the sloppy, and crude human text, seemed etched not on, but within the book itself. It was an elven script.
"This", She said, opening the cover to reveal the first pages.
"It is one of the only Elven books that made it with us. With this, even if we can't use magic the same way the elves did, we can see it."
As the first pages opened, lights danced around the book, green, blue, purple, orbs that were creating an image.
The image came into view, elven text came to life, the colors changed once more, and in the pictures there was a massive river, elves were gathered on either side of it, holding some sort of festival.
"Elven books are much different then ours, as you can see, instead of text, the elves weave magic into their pages in an art form called Lumiscription, Using this, images can be projected. We are still studying the elven language, but this book is titled, The Tales Of The Vyrath"
A murmur spread through the students, as they watched the images in fascination, Thalos felt a pull toward it. Something about the book, the images, sparked his curiosity more than anything could in Frosthelm.
"What is the Vyrath?" Thalos meant to think it, but he must have mistakenly said it loud enough for others to hear.
"That is what we all want to know about Thalos" Thalos broke his gaze from the book, and looked up at Mistress Elwen. She had a soft, almost sad expression.
"All we know is that the Vyrath played a pivotal role in creation. It's a river that touches the furthest reaches of Beloria, it is said the Vyrath is the reason for all life, even to this day we keep old sayings such as, 'By The Grace Of The Vyrath'. Sadly we may never recover the true stories"
The lesson continued, but Thalos barely heard the rest, His eyes remained on the elven book, his imagination spawning to life old wars, magical beings, celebrations, all centered around the Vyrath.
He imagined himself a mighty warrior, capable of using the strongest of magic, whatever that may be.
Protecting the innocent, And defeating evil.
His imagination only deepened as every time the light touched the letters on the book they shimmered and seemed to shift as he watched them.
But this was all in a young boy's head.
The lesson ended and Garrick nudged him to get up.
The world disappeared, the warrior he was vanished, and he was once again sitting on the cold floor.
A young boy who will be forever stuck in the snow.