Private Tales Elbion Nights

[Alistair Wren]

Sitting in his dormitory at the Elbion College, Alistair Wren went over the most important units for an exam on conjuration he was going to take the following week. He sat crossed-legged on his bed, surrounded by books and scrolls, with a quill in his hand. Roly was scuttling across the floor and Poly sat on his head. Brushing his nose with the tip of the quill, he leaned down and derived the function of a rune in a particular spell he was having difficulty with in the course. Conjuring was a difficult school, the most difficult in his major, but it was without a doubt the most interesting. Craning his neck around, Alistair double checked his runes to see if it was possible to derive the desired output of the spell from them.

The exam was in a week and he barely had any free time. He was sleeping less and less and had been grumpy, but mostly because he was still recovering from witnessing the death of Maho Sparhawk. He had been withdrawn, and hadn't been talking to the other mages as much.

Tristan, his dorm mate, had been trying to drag Alistair out of the college to have some actual fun, but Alistair refused. He had to pass this exam, it would do wonders for his mood and hopefully impress Selina Altas. Groaning, he squinted at the pesky function, which he couldn't derive a product from as much as he tried. The runes became blurry on his parchment and he sighed, struggling to concentrate amidst the stress. He breathed in and exhaled, then ran a hand through his hair, resting his forehead on a fist. The door swung open, and Alistair looked up to see Tristan walk inside, a gaggle of girls chattering and laughing in the corridor behind him.

The room was circular, the walls made of stone and bathed in light from the stained glass windows. Alistair's eyes closed when he saw Tristan and he groaned in frustration. He knew he hadn't been studying, and he had missed his conjuration lecture that afternoon.

"Why weren't you in conjuration this afternoon?" Alistair demanded. Turning around, he stared at Tristan from across the room, his navy eyes flashing with a glint of sapphire.

A pause followed. Alistair stared at Tristan, his mouth hanging open. He slumped his shoulders and huffed, then turned around to face the wall, "this is the most difficult subject in your major, you're never going to pass unless you actually go to class!" Alistair snapped.

He was in denial. Part of him wanted to take a few days off to relax, but he knew he would regret if he didn't get a result in the top percentile. He looked at the runes again, squinted, then felt his head hurt. He grumbled, threw his quill down and placed his face in his hands, his teeth tightly clenched. He did want time off, he really did, but was too responsible to allow himself to have it, especially when he had to help Tristan with his studies as well.

"And you didn't do your runes for empathy," he grumbled, his face in his hands.

 

[Tristan Morow]

Tristan's entrance into the dorm brought with it the clamor outside in the halls. Mostly the chattering of the girls that accompanied him. They spoke to him, yet what they were saying was unclear to Alistair.

"Right, right," Tristan cooed, "Later, huh? Don't we have exams?" He parted ways with the retinue of young ladies with a charming chuckle.

He then turned to face the innards of the room, half of it decorated with Tristan's belongings, and the other decorated with his friend's things. The door shut, muffling the outside noise. A winsome smile stretched his rosy cheeks, which quickly turned to a grimace as Alistair mentioned conjuration.

"Conjuration is a bore," He said. His accent was nasally and rolled off the tongue like honey despite him talking on a topic that was distasteful to him. He waved a hand, dismissing the topic. Or, he intended to dismiss it. But, Alistair continued on. After a moment of holding his hand up in the air, he dropped it. He did not want to admit that Alistair was right. If he did not pick up his studies, then yes, he would fail.

Tristan was quite good at catching up on things at the last minute. It was an acquired skill that allowed him to barely scrape by in the more difficult courses. He had not, up to that point, failed a single course yet. It was routine for him, to indulge himself in frivolities until a deadline for a class snuck up on him. Then, in private, he would spent an ungodly amount of time working until his task was done. No breaks for food or drink, no sleep to fight off fatigue.

His proficiency in procrastinating matched that of his potential with magic. Watching Alistair fret was cute. Tristan smiled at his friend and approached. He stopped across from Alistair and leaned over the bed. The faintly sweet scent that clung to Tristan's skin combined with his natural body odor created a subtle, musky smell.

"How long have we shared the dorm?" He placed a hand on Alistair's shoulder and began to rub the tense muscle, "You know I make do."

While he spoke, he looked down at the books and scrolls scattered about the bedding. Although inverted, he was able to peruse the contents with relative ease.

"Still on that?" He asked, not intending to be spiteful or mocking in any way.

 

[Alistair Wren]

Tristan said conjuration was boring, his nasally, honeyed voice grating on Alistair's ears. He had no idea why girls liked it so much. Staring at him plainly from above his parchment, Alistair breathed in, his lower eyelids twitching slightly. The line of his mouth was perfectly straight, his eyes still.

"Conjuration is not a bore, it's fascinating," he stated.

Alistair started to explain why conjuration was very important and Tristan had to study for his major, but was too exhausted to formulate a response. Quill in hand, he breathed in and sighed, his shoulders slumping. As Tristan walked over and placed a hand on Alistair's shoulder, the other young mage closed his eyes and groaned. He knew Tristan well enough to know that he would just hammer down at the last minute and pass by nothing short of a miracle.

Still, it wasn't a good habit.

"That's not a good habit to have though, Tris, when you're actually practicing as a qualified mage, you won't be able to rely simply on cramming in work at the last minute," he rolled his eyes, nodding his head from side to side.

With a heavy sigh, Alistair screwed the lid on his ink pot and pulled his legs off the bed. He stood on his feet and stretched, his back and legs aching with cramps. Still sighing, he put his ink, pot, quill and parchment on his desk and leaned against it, his forehead in his hand. He stroked Poly, who scuttled down from his head and sat on his shoulder. The feeling of the giant cockroach's smooth shell was oddly comforting.

"Ugh, yes!"He threw his hand down and groaned, the black rings around his eyes prominent as he looked at the ceiling. Conjuring runes were hard, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was struggling. He had been doing well, but was now too overwhelmed to think properly. Maho Sparhawk's death did not help either, and Alistair had been throwing himself into his studies as a means of coping with his grief.

"It's the runes for a spell to cast a familiar, so like a sentient companion, and it's fucking hard, alright?" He shrugged.

 

[Tristan Morow]

He was silent for nearly the whole time. Sure, his studying habits were bad. Alistair knew better than anyone at the college that Tristan was extremely competent in fields that he had even a little interest in. It just happened to be that those subjects are far and few.

Alistair stood and went to his desk. After setting aside his things and taking a moment, he had suddenly raised his voice.

“Why don’t,” His voice trailed as he approached Alistair’s back, “I help you with this problem. Then, you get some sleep. If i help you, then tonight we can leave campus. You need to get away from-“ He waved his arms, “All of this! I don’t know what exactly happened to you when you left, but you’re my only real friend here. I care about you, and it is clear you need a break!”

He breathed in deep to catch his breath and to compose himself. It was rare for Tristan to have such a serious outburst.

“Look, I know you don’t care for how I spend most of my time. But tonight, come out with me. Let me help you forget, even if it’s only for the night. It’ll be fun.” He sized Alistair up with a teasing, mischievous expression, “And you look to be in desperate need for fun.”

 

[Alistair Wren]

Leaning on his desk, Alistair raised his head and stifled a chuckle as Tristan spoke. He posed a question, before his words trailed off, the subject of the question lingering on the air, although Alistair had an inkling as to what he was going to ask. Striding across the length of the room, he scooped up Poly, his pet giant cockroach, and put him back in his tank, along with Roly, then turned to face Tristan.

Leaning against the table where the tank stood, Alistair placed his forehead in his hand and ran his fingers through his hair as he thought about Tristan's offer. A night on the town? Where he could enjoy himself and forget about his troubles? It sounded nice, but he had this blasted exam coming up.

"I dunno," Alistair groaned, "we have the exam a week from now," he raised a hand and scratched the back of his head, screwing up his features as he thought.

"When was the last time I had actual fun?" He thought, very tempted by Tristan's honeyed words. He had never even had a woman, maybe that was something his friend could help him with if he went out.

Hanging his head, Alistair laughed, "that does sound nice, getting away from all of this, I mean," he shrugged.

Tristan breathed in and composed himself, clearly wanting the best for Alistair. He knew he needed to keep up with his studies, but he just couldn't concentrate amidst the stress. Maybe a night off would do him some good. Tristan mentioned that he didn't know what happened to Alistair while he was on break, to which the other young mage furrowed his brow. He still hadn't told him how he had watched one of his teachers die. Perhaps tonight, he could loosen up and share his troubles with him.

"Alright then," Alistair smiled, "let's go," he waved a hand in dismissal of the concern he had previously held.

 

[Tristan Morow]

Tris stood there, silently observing his friend deliberate with himself. The lad had a charming appearance, a boyish look that he just knew women would love. Alistair simply never put himself out there, which Tristan did not slight him for. Actually, Tristan had a lot of respect for Alistair. He respected his effort and motivation, the latter of which he wished he had himself.

Then, much to his surprise, Alistair agreed to go out. He had expected, like many times before, to have his offer refused.

“Wh- really?” He didn’t hide his shock. A moment later, with a laugh, he hooked an arm over Alistair’s shoulder, “You won’t regret it! I’ll help you study, and I promise I won’t skip a single lecture next term!”

 

[Alistair Wren]

Tristan exclaimed, overcome with disbelief at the fact that Alistair had actually agreed to go out on the town with him. Arms hanging limp by his side, Alistair looked down, laughing sheepishly as he fiddled with his robes.

Truth be told, he did want to go out with Tristan. Maybe even hook up with a girl. He just hadn't had any time. He smiled, his cheeks dented with distinctive dimples.

Looking up, he nodded, "yeah, let's go." He smiled, revealing his crooked, browning teeth.

"I'm twenty, and I haven't even been with a girl," he shrugged, "doing nothing but studying takes it's toll, I do want to have actual fun." Another shrug, and he reached around to scratch the back of his head.

Still, he was slightly anxious about missing out on any studying he needed for his conjuration unit. Shifting his eyes, he withdrew a breath and sighed nervously, biting his bottom lip. He looked at Tristan, and all of a sudden his expression hardened when his friend said that he would help him study.

"You better, and if I don't score over ninety percent for this unit, I'll kill you," he threatened, pointing a finger at Tristan.

There was a pause, and Alistair sighed. His shoulders slumped and he managed a smile, "okay let's go, you know all the good places in town." With a nod, he casually threw aside his quill and grabbed his belt, then fastened it around his waist.

 

[Tristan Morow]

Tristan's head cocked slightly to one side. Hasn't ever laid with a woman?

A comforting hand found Alistair's shoulder. Tris flashed a smug expression at his dear friend.

"I'm afraid that you may become enthralled by what women have to offer," A lighthearted jest, "We will see what happens. Fortunately for you, your features are quite fine. Women will flock to you, my friend!"

His hand retracted from Alistair's shoulder and contemplatively stroked his own chin. "Yes, you have this air of innocence. Your shy attitude, too, is likely to draw women in."

He became entertained at the thought of more predatory women pouncing onto his sheepish friend. A few drinks to lighten him up, and then their night will truly begin.

"I know where we can go."

The sun retreated over the horizon now. One half of the sky was consumed in darkness. As every moment passed, darkness painted the evening sky one stroke at a time. A beautiful array of pink, purple, and orange surrounded the sun as it fell. In a matter of minutes, the sky was darkened. Stars glimmered above.

The streets of Elbion were bustling. Side-by-side, Alistair and Tristan walked, though it was clear that the Allirian boy led the two. They soon entered a rather chic location. The interior was stylish, far from conservative, and full of college students and strangers. It was clear that the majority, if not all, were within the same age range.

"I come here a lot," He spoke over the ambiance. It was busy, and voices carried within the establishment, but it was far from rowdy. "The drinks are good, the atmosphere is relaxed. It'll treat you well."

 

[Alistair Wren]

Alistair hung his head and smirked. Feeling Tristan's hand on his shoulder, he blushed slightly, laughing to hide his embarrassment. His friend warned him of the women he would introduce him to, and how they might enthrall him, which made Alistair both excited and nervous. What if he was too awkward? What if they weren't interested in magic and found him boring? Eyes shifting, he bit his index finder in apprehension and looked to the side.

He was an attractive young man, in an unabashedly cute way, but if the girls in the town wanted a strapping warrior they might be disappointed.

But some girls liked guys who were more on the cute side, so he might be lucky. Tristan reassured him, but he still wasn't sure. He was attractive enough in the looks department, but he struggled to talk about anything other than magic.

He just hoped they didn't think he was weird.

"Okay, we should get going before it gets dark," he said with a nod of his head.

- - -​

Alistair and Tristan walked through the streets of Elbion as the sun set. The city was alive with music and lights. Horns blared from every tavern as scantily clad women offered themselves on every street corner. Nervously clutching his robes, Alistair ran after Tristan, who lead him through the crowd. Features shrouded by his hood, he kept within Tristan shadow and scurried after him, looking over his shoulder at all the sights and sounds of the city after dark.

Tristan lead Alistair out of the more crowded district into a sleek area. Stopping before a polished venue, Alistair released his breath and sighed, smoothing down the front of his robes. He ran a hand through his hair and swept back his hood, then turned to face Tristan.

They slid into the venue, which was lively and tempered, the soft plucking of a harp drowning out the chatter of students from the college, all of whom appeared to be around Alistair and Tristan's age. Standing in the doorway, Alistair looked around curiously, his eyes the size of stars. He saw a woman swishing by with a tray full of drinks on a tray, but he was too shy to grab one for himself. Young men and women chattered around tables, all chic and beautiful.

There were many young woman close to Alistair's age as well. Some turned around and gasped when they saw him. Another held her hand to her mouth and squealed like she had just seen an adorable puppy.

As Tristan showed him around the place, all Alistair could do was smirk in amusement. He was unsure of himself and at a loss for what to do first. Hopefully, Tristan would get him acquainted with Elbion's night life.

The woman carrying the tray of drinks walked past and Alistair sheepishly reached for one. He opened his mouth to speak, but was drowned out by the music. He withdrew his hand, stammered and recoiled. By the time he looked up, the woman was gone.

 

[Tristan Morow]

Tristan paused and breathed in deep through his nose. This was home to him. This atmosphere. This joy.

Over all the noise, he heard the squeal of adoration directed towards Alistair. A quick survey of the patrons, and Tristan was able to tell that Alistair had drawn a few eyes already. Most of the patrons were regulars. Alistair would recognize many. He may even be surprised at some of the faces he would see; those that he may think to be too studious to frequent such an establishment.

One stark difference from typical taverns or bars was the absence of any harlots. The Golden Quill was far from a raucous tavern. The proprietor often described the place as a lounge or a place where students of the College could gather in a relaxed, social environment to relieve stress.

Tris turned to his friend, brow raised in amusement.

"Seems you've got some admirers," A smile played about his lips. Done so casually, as if it were like breathing, he plucked two glasses from a passing barmaid. He offered one to Alistair. White wine.

"You don't have to be shy, or talk to them, really. I like to tip every now and then." He leaned in close, "Tipping well gets them to like you. Tip too much, and they'll think of you an easy target for coin. You'll get the hang of it, mon amie. The bar, however, requires coin."

He gently slapped his friend's shoulder, "Enjoy yourself. Sometimes this mellow tune will change into something more upbeat. People will dance. I'm sure some fine peer of ours will attempt to drag you onto the floor. Come."

He began to turn and beckoned Alistair to follow. The establishment itself was of a respectable size. Despite being quite full, there was plenty of room to navigate. Most patrons sat at the bar or lush tables scattered around. The place was lit well enough to see, though it was somewhat dim to lend to its atmosphere. There was a faint lavender glow. The wall facing the street was decorated with a large stained-glass mural.

Tristan guided Alistair to a table where three others sat. All girls.

"Ladies," He flourished a casual genuflection at the three. Two giggled in response.

"Oh, you!" One of them said with a hand raised to her mouth as she laughed. A cute, bubbly girl by the name of Ada. She was somewhat short and had large, glimmering blue eyes.

"We've been waiting all night, Tris!" Another spoke with a sultry tone. This one was the taller of the three, with a fine figure and beautiful dark hair. It was done in a single braid that was thrown over the shoulder. She carried quite a mature appearance, with delicate, yet full lips, and blazingly passionate brown eyes. She was the only one that did not giggle, though it was clear that he had entertained her. Irelia was more Tristan's type. The two got on very well.

"Is that Alistair? Alistair Wren?" The third leaned forward. Elbows on the table and chin resting in her hands, her eyes slyly narrowed and lips curled in a coy smile.

Tristan used that moment to introduce his dear friend.

He cleared his throat, "Ladies, as it was just announced, it is indeed Alistair Wren."

With a hand on his back, Tristan gently urged him forward.

"He's awfully stressed from exams coming up and is gracious enough to join us tonight. Please, don't tease him too much."