Beneath the Great Willow

Chapter 1 - An Oak is Not Felled

It was the last lesson before lunch break, and elderly professor Davis was performing his role and duty as a boring lecturer as he recited the last chapter of the chronicles written for Milligan The Hero by Lowe the bard. Although it was a familiar story, the fact that every student had heard it possibly a hundred times at this point in their lives made it an excruciatingly uninteresting experience.

"Milligan The Hero stood up slowly, his chipped sword leaving a mark against the destroyed flower bed as it dragged through the mixture of churned soil and biomass. Various bits of amaryllis, asters, and calla lilies among other indistinguishable pieces of plant in his path were erased of identity as his bloodsoaked boots trampled all semblance of beauty left in them." Professor Davis proceeded to draw a rough sketch of a calla lily. "As we know, calla lilies no longer exist and the garden Milligan fought in is the last known location of any living calla lily."

He proceeded with the story. "He approached the weakened cursed amalgamation by the fallen willow tree, not faltering for a moment despite his lifeline draining away by the second. Heroic Milligan makes his way, step by step, to the foul beast, and thrusts the Blade of Almon deep into the creature's neck." He paused for dramatic effect. "By the way, we still don't know what that monster was except that it corroded everything around it with its infectious dark magic." He circled a question mark next to a stick figure of a quadruped creature.

"After the deed was done, the victorious yet dying Milligan collapsed, resting his broken body against the monster's rough skin. The monster's blood seeped into the cracks and dents of his armor as his blood found its way out, and amidst this exchange of dark and light did he take one final breath to say the famous words..."

"Only when the darkness is dispelled can Caeloria bask in the light of Ildar." Fina, one of if not the most diligent student in the entire academy, said.

"Exactly. And with those words being spoken, thus ends the last story written by Lowe the bard for Milligan The Hero." Professor Davis smiled.

"Is there going to be a section on Milligan in our written exam?" Fina asked, breaking the silence that had stretched on for a brief yet awkward amount of time. Milligan The Hero was a really big deal for us Caelorians, magic and non-magic users alike. It's even more important for the noble kids, who make up more than half of the academy population, who are taught about his feats from a young age.

Professor Davis chuckled, stroking his fluffy beard in amusement. "Absolutely not. I just wanted to give you a hint for what I believe the location of this year's Quinquennial Caelorian Treasure Hunt is going to take place." He whisked his chalk around on the blackboard, clearly spelling out 'Quinquennial Caelorian Treasure Hunt' for everyone to see. He points at those four words, scanning the room to gauge the reactions of. "Can someone give an in depth description of what the QCTH is?" He pointed his chalk at Fina, bringing everyone's attention to her wavy chestnut hair flowing like a willow branch on a windy afternoon as she raised her hand with haste.

"The Quinquennial Caelorian Treasure Hunt is a traditional event that takes place every five years." She said, twiddling her thumbs as all the other twenty something students casted glances at the blessed valedictorian. "It's organized by the royal family and it serves the purpose of showcasing the kingdom's best adventurers, mages, swordsmen, scholars, and other treasure-seekers–"

Suddenly, a voice coming from none other than Karl Harrow, the resident noble boy from a house, broke Fina's explanation. "Ms. Textbook, tell us something interesting for once."

Fina coughed, clearing her throat for the next part of the information dump. "Each iteration is different, with some being literal treasure hunts and others being strong monster subjugations. Different factions can choose to send teams of up to four persons to the events, with only three being allowed to actually participate in the main program." She takes a deep breath after she's done, flattening the bottom of her skirt before sitting down.

Professor Davis applauds politely all the whilst nodding vigorously. "That was an excellent explanation, Fina. That's right. This year's treasure hunt is going to be situated in a place related to Milligan's story. Does anyone want to guess?"

Bren, a somewhat annoying sixth year boy from a family of medium nobility in Ardenfell interjected almost immediately. "Forget about us. Aren't you also just guessing right now because the official announcement isn't out until three days later?"

This comment formed a snarky smile on the old teacher's face, some youth escaping the depths of the many wrinkles on his face. "I've got a friend in the Adventurers' Guild who showed me reports detailing the discovery of a ruin complex found behind a retreating glacier located between Lithern and Ardolach." He paused, taking a breath to continue his rant. "That is allegedly the final resting place of Milligan as well as the former laboratory of the ancient sorceress Eiriliei." He moved swiftly to the middle of the classroom, excitement evident in his eyes. "And from observing the behavior of the decision makers when it comes to the treasure hunt over so many decades, I am almost certain that they're going to use this ruin as the main location of the event."

If you were a student skipping class by sneaking around the hallways, you could probably hear the classroom audibly gasp. The Academy of Arms and Arcana, being one of the five prestigious schools in Caeloria, as well as the one sponsored directly by the royal family, has had a rich history when it comes to participating in the treasure hunts. They are known for selecting a handful of students to send to each event depending on the details, and the fact that this year's event might entail dungeon-crawling means that the most likely choice for the academy to make would be to select four to five students split between the arms department and the arcane department.

Unsurprisingly, Karl jumped out of his seat at the sudden realization of the implications this event could have on his life. "I'm going to become the greatest adventurer of all time!" Eyes were rolled metaphorically as some people snickered at his remarks.

The boy from earlier, Bren, grinned at the sight of Karl showing signs of being happy, which could only mean good for someone like him, who hailed from the Malerns family, a subordinate family that acted as a vessel of influence for the Harrow house that owned every depressed pebble in the militaristic border province of Greyharrow. He was definitely getting treated tonight.

Fina sat still in her seat directly in front of the lectern, staring into the lines of her notebook, every fact and piece of information joining together to stare back at her.

Another boy, Dorian Cassiole, stared out of the glossy window pane down into the training field for students of the arcane department. He watched carefully as the students of varying levels of mastery over their elements used a not-so-varied roster of spells on a mana-absorbing stone dummy. 'It's just another event held by nobles for entertainment.' He thought to himself. 'Only the rich kids with a reputation like Karl are going to go to make a fool of themselves in front of real professional adventurers.'

His hand automatically scribbled notes subconsciously, watching as Elira, a fire mage who is particularly adept at magic, molded motes of fire magic into an eagle that proceeded to soar several meters into the sky before bursting into sparks. Something about the way she shaped her fire usage stood out to him. The precision and fluidity in her motion made it like a performance, a candle for the moths that in this case, was bystanders watching, and Dorian couldn't help but fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

Suddenly, a resounding boom sounded as professor Davis dropped the three thousand page Chronicles of Milligan The Hero onto the wooden floor of the lecture hall, causing a tranquil lull in the chattering classroom. "If you may be quiet," he commanded in a voice that betrayed the expected sound output from his elderly lungs. "I am going to dismiss you noisy parrots in a minute because I'm done teaching for the day." He started to wipe the blackboard with a cloth. "But before I do so, I want to let each and every one of you know that the headmaster is smart enough to not send a bunch of cocky students into ruins that could be dangerous." He walked to the door, stuffing the chalk-wiping cloth into his pocket. "Only the right students will be picked, so get ready if not a single one of you in this classroom gets picked."

The grizzled professor casted a knowing glance at Dorian, who was too absorbed by the scenery outside to return it, and smirked as he stepped outside the classroom to leave it overflowing with life and anticipation.