Chapter Text
“Shit.” Lucanus muttered the word quietly as the fallen inkwell spilled out its dark ink over the parchment he had been working on. He quickly moved his spellbook away from the mess, and began grabbing extra papers to try and clean the ink up. The headmaster would not be pleased if Lucanus stained the desk.
“Ahem, Mister Aer’tea?” A voice spoke from the doorway, and Lucanus looked up to see Perriana, the headmaster’s secretary. Her glasses were perched on the end of her nose, and the eyes above them were cold and judgemental. “The headmaster requests a word with you.”
Lucanus glanced back down at the mess in front of him. “Tell him I will be by in a moment.”
“Hm. He says that it is urgent.”
His face still turned to the desk, Lucanus allowed himself a moment to close his eyes and sigh. Perriana did not hide her dislike for Lucanus, but he often wished that she would be more subtle. Lucanus stepped around his desk, quietly praying to Arathis that the ink was contained.
When Lucanus entered the headmaster’s office, pushing aside the heavy, ornately carved oak door, he saw the headmaster poised in front of the windows of the room, windows that looked out from the headmaster’s tower to the main courtyard of the university. He was standing with his hands crossed behind his back, his long silver hair stark against his blue robes.
“Uh-huh-huh, Lucanus, come over here.” Rin, the headmaster, spoke without turning his head. Lucanus joined him at the windows, peering out over the University of Arcane Arts and Sciences, a beautiful and ancient school in the center of Gladeholm. The cobblestone of the main courtyard glistened with a recent rain, but Lucanus’s eyes were drawn to a red-haired woman standing in one of the fountains of the courtyard. She was washing what looked like a wet rag in the clear water of the fountain.
“What is that woman doing down there?” Lucanus exclaimed, inciting a tch noise from Rin.
“Arathis only knows. That’s Jolene Cybin, the leader of the Crick Elves.” Rin spoke the last two words with bitter contempt in his voice. Lucanus did not know much of the Crick people, as they were as good as banished from Gladeholm. He knew their history, how their people were descended from two High Elven lovers that were also cousins, but he had never seen a Crick Elf, or the Crick. Lucanus had never even left Gladeholm. His parents would have a fit if he tried to leave to visit the Crick of all places.
“Why is she here in Gladeholm?” Lucanus asked, but Rin only shrugged in response.
“I want you to go down and ask her, uh-huh. Perhaps this lesson in diplomacy will bring you one step closer to earning the title of headmaster.” Rin finally looked away from the window to look at Lucanus smugly. “Unless that isn’t what you want?”
Rin was not a kind-hearted man, but his friendship with Lucanus’s parents provided some warmth towards Lucanus. Well, perhaps not warmth, but a little more respect than Rin would have given other elves. The headmaster was not shy about his ambitions; he aspired to the role of Archmage of Gladeholm, and Rin had made it clear that Lucanus would be his successor at the University. Still, the elf used this passage of power to force Lucanus into more unsavory tasks: things like organizing paperwork, hearing student petitions, and meeting with anyone that Rin didn’t feel like speaking to. Which now included the red-haired woman rubbing dirt off of her arms with the water from a 2000-year-old fountain.
“What is it you want me to learn from her, exactly?” Lucanus asked, already feeling tension gathering in his temples.
“Ask her why she’s here, and if this is some form of aggression from the Crick, uh-huh-huh,” Rin said. He waved a pale hand. “Go on, I have other tasks to do.”
Lucanus bowed his head and exited the office, letting out a sigh as the door shut behind him. He had no desire to speak to this Crick elf; he had far more important work to be attending to, and this all seemed to be a waste of time. But, perhaps he could convince her to stop bathing in one of the eldest structures on campus.
As Lucanus walked out of the Great Hall of the University, he was met with a cool gust of wind. With all of the magic of the elves, Gladeholm experienced mild weather year-round, but autumn still brought a biting wind that both annoyed and thrilled. The trees around the University, enchanted to glow at night, shone in oranges and reds that you couldn’t help but stare at, and Lucanus was quietly pleased with the way his cloak billowed in the breeze.
The elven woman in the fountain was tall, broad-shouldered, and… well, there’s not really a polite way to put it, busty. Her skin was covered in freckles and dirt, and she wore a plaid shirt that was only buttoned once, leaving very little about her bosom to the imagination. A dark grey cloth was wrapped around her wrist, but Lucanus realized very quickly that it was not a cloth when a pointed rodent’s face turned to look at him.
“My god!” he exclaimed, grabbing his chest in shock. He hadn’t meant to make any noise, but now the woman was looking at him warily.
“You from the university?” she asked, her Crick drawl warping the vowels of her words. “I need to talk to one of y’all.”
“I-- yes, I’m from the university. I am the Dean of Students. What is on your arm?” Lucanus winced as the woman brought the squealing rodent to her face, allowing the creature to nuzzle her cheek. To Lucanus’s shock, it wasn’t the woman that responded, but the furry grey beast.
“I am MawMaw, the mother of possums, familiar to the MeeMaw of the Crick peoples.” The creature nimbly leapt from the elven woman’s arm and ran-- no, scrambled-- over to Lucanus. “What is your name, high elf?”
Lucanus took a step away from the possum, exceedingly unnerved. “I am Lucanus Aer’tea.”
“Lucanus Err-teir?” The woman said, her nose scrunched.
“No, Aer’tea. Like air, then tea, then uh.” Lucanus made the sounds slowly, trying to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“Err-tey-yah?”
“Aer’tea.”
“Err-te-yeh?”
“Aer’tea!” Lucanus snapped, then shook his head. “Whatever. Who are you, and why are you bathing in the sacred fountain of Ellianwyn the Brilliant?”
“Oh, this is a special fountain? My bad, I just wanted to clean up before I talked to y’all at the university.” The woman stepped out of the fountain, wringing her red curls with her hands. “My name is Jolene Cybin, I’m the MeeMaw of the Crick.”
“The MeeMaw? Are you the leader of the Crick?”
Jolene put her hands in the pockets of her denim shorts, frowning. “Being MeeMaw is more than just bein’ a leader. You gotta have some youngins, fulfill the druidic needs of the Living Wood.” She unceremoniously launched a wad of spit off to the side. “But yeah, I’m also the leader.”
Lucanus stared at the slightly green spittle that landed a few feet away. “Alright, so if you are the leader of the Crick, what are you doing in Gladeholm?”
“Well, we’re all elves, right?” Jolene spread her hands, a glint in her eyes that was almost a dare. “I’ve come to ask what the High Elves will be doing in response to the attacks of the Giants.”
Letting out a sigh, Lucanus shook his head. “Nothing. They’re doing nothing.”
“They know about the attacks, right?” Jolene said, stepping closer to Lucanus.
“Of course they do. They are actively choosing to do nothing. The king and his court do not believe that there is anything the elves of Gladeholm can offer.”
“That’s bullshit!” Jolene exclaimed. “Y’all got the greatest wizards in Bahumia, all the arcane magic you could hope for, and there’s Giants killin’ innocent people! That is a steaming pile of--”
“Bullshit. I know.” Lucanus interrupted, his voice low. He loved his people, but he would never agree with the isolationist policies of the King Selinar Aerwyn. Lucanus was a man driven to use his magic to help others, which was why he let his parents set him up to become the Headmaster of the university. In a position of that much power, he could actually influence the politics and decisions of the royal court, and perhaps convince the people of Gladeholm that they should use their knowledge to impact the fate of Bahumia.
Jolene looked surprised that Lucanus interrupted her. She cast her gaze over him, unabashedly scanning him from head to toe, and looking back up at his green eyes.
“I think we will be talking a lot more, Mister Aer’tea.” Jolene said, and MawMaw nodded solemnly.