Chapter 3 Counterkill

Departing Mossitore’s sanctum, Alberic hurried through the sprawling Academy of Dark Arts towards his cramped lodgings. The archmages and their charges did not reside in adjoining premises. Passing the soaring lecture halls, he spotted other apprentices also hustling to and fro, none tarrying to chat.

Frigid academy edicts fostered only patron-vassal ties between mages - beyond that lay only hostility and rivalry. “Friendship” remained an alien concept here. The last stretch passed through a murky grove of white cedars enclosing Alberic’s refugee.

Yet awaiting him was an ambush. "Heh heh, that scarred blabbermouth Jock was right! You're half dead on your feet," a shrill voice rang out in mockery. "Rather than suffer a slow demise, let me end your misery now!" An apprentice garbed in black robes and wearing a white mask sprang abruptly from the roadside woods of white cedars.

He matched Alberic in height but had mottled grey hair contrasting Alberic’s enviable golden locks. Feuds between apprentice mages were commonplace. Theirs stretched back a decade to when they were both abducted as children into the lightless realms. Back then, a starving young Alberic had once battered a fellow captive to seize desperately needed rations - an unforgiven, unforgotten defeat for Yrque.

Unfortunately, that youth was none other than Yrque's own brother. In the decade since the starving abductees first arrived in the lightless realms, those surviving human children had grown into fledgeling mages. Yet Yrque's brother had perished before the Academy’s recruiters arrived - his strength sapped by meager rations and Alberic’s devastating blow. Though even without starvation, his chances would have been doubtful.

Clearly Yrque assigned full blame onto Alberic for this demise. As to why he had not immediately sought vengeance then... Perhaps young Alberic's freakish power had intimidated him. In the academy since, at least a dozen clashes left both enemies gravely wounded - each almost killing the other on two occasions. Their feud had long since passed the point of no return. Such bitter bloodshed between apprentices was hardly uncommon in Mosobla City, however. Strangely enough, the lofty archmages never intervened in these internal power struggles. If anything, they spectated with amusement, watching fledglings battle to the death as an entertaining diversion from their esoteric research.

To those mighty mages, these were experiments of a different kind. Aware their clash must end swiftly before officers of the academy intervened, Yrque wasted no time once his taunts concluded. While Alberic trained in pyrologic sorcery, Yrque specialized in botanical magic.

In fact, Yrque’s accomplishments in the Academy’s botanical gardens had earned him that ghostly pallid mask - a junior-grade sorcerous artifact from the instructors. Clearly without greater strength, he hardly deserved to even face Alberic. At Yrque’s muttered incantations, three verdant arrows materialized and shot forth - whereas the common variant of this spell only formed two. This showcase revealed Yrque also neared promotion to Intermediate Apprentice. Yet Alberic remained unperturbed by the approaching peril targeted at his head, heart and nethers respectively - a swift death assured by this triple threat. Battered and exhausted after his recent travails, he currently lacked the mental focus and magical reserves to manifest his signature Secondary Fireball.

Compounding matters, Alberic’s injuries prevented evading the hurtling projectiles. Beneath his pallid mask, Yrque’s lips curled into a smile, assured of imminent victory. Due to finite mind-force and magic capacity, apprentices could unleash only sparse spells before exhaustion. At peak form, neither could manage more than a couple Secondary Fireballs or Thorns. To fell Alberic, Yrque had already expended his utmost. Smug confidence seemed warranted with his foe so greivously encumbered.

A single Thorn would have sufficed to puncture Alberic’s skull. Three promised certain demise. Yet the smug confidence behind Yrque’s mask eroded into incredulity at the sight of the enchanted wand retrieved from Alberic’s robe. Too late forbackup plans - Alberic's vestiges of will powered the stave. The engraved acid payload launched toward Yrque in an unstoppable torrent!

As befitting its maker - an artifact gifted from Archmage Mossitore himself. Despite being casually brewed amidst alchemical trials, this enchanted stave endowed young Alberic to challenge mages well above the apprentice ranks.

Aside from discharging high-level corrosion draughts, the wizard staff also slowly regenerated its bearer’s magic and mental reserves. Alberic had kept firm hold ever since departing his patron’s sanctum - providing barely enough restored power to cope with any academy contingencies.

Advanced corrosive acid and junior Thorns - hardly comparable ordnance. Whether judged by power, velocity or precision, Mossitore's dreadful concoction outstripped Yrque's paltry attack. The menacing green shafts melted into teal vapor beneath that searing golden shroud.

Its power undiminished, the trailing draught engulfed Yrque - too swiftly for a counter-spell or evasion. "Arghh!!" Agonized screams erupted amidst insidious sizzling that set teeth on edge.

Soon, Yrque's cries faded to silence. Approaching, Alberic noted his foe's head remained largely intact, unlike the charred ruin below. Revolting stench perfused the air. Yet the grisly sight barely registered on Alberic's composure.

Already, sounds of movement echoed outwards - apprentices or academy guards attracted by the confrontation. Paying them no heed, Alberic calmly knelt to claim his spoils of victory. Yrque's pallid mask was the first item stripped from that misshapen severed head.

As a junior-grade artifact, the pallid mask bore only a single etched spell - Nightvision, enabling clearer sight in gloom. While in no way comparable to the puissant stave Alberic carried, this still proved valuable plunder.