Veralia pushed open the heavy double doors of the tall temple, and strode into the main hall, Nona following. They were immediately greeted by huge archway that stretched up to nearly the top of the seven-story building, and perfectly framed a marble statue set far back into the main chamber of a stern-looking, bald elf with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Nona gawked at the immense work of art; even though his brain told him it was entirely made of solid rock, he could have sworn the elf’s robes flowed and folded exactly like normal fabric. Veralia didn’t even spare it a glance, instead heading directly for the curving staircase on the right. When she noticed Nona hadn’t followed her, she sighed, grabbed his arm, and pulled him away from the main chamber. Nona followed her, but craned his head back towards it, trying to get as many glimpses of the statue as possible, and tripped over the first step doing so. “That was one big statue,” Nona breathed, hurrying up to catch up with his mentor on the stairs. “Indeed,” Veralia curtly replied. They made it to the second floor when Veralia rounded the corner on the landing and entered a wide hallway that followed the curvature of the wall. Plain wooden doors periodically lined the outside of the hall; Veralia skipped many of them before finally going into one of the rooms. There was a sofa and two comfy looking chairs next to it, and two bookcases lined the sides of the room. They weren’t filled, but there was a broad variety of shapes and sizes, with some scrolls. Many of them had a cream-colored envelope sticking out between the pages. Veralia skipped all of it and headed to the back of the room where there was an exquisite mural of ancient-looking iconography. On the left side, there was a disc with a horde of flat figures in the center. Tools and weaponry protruded from the crowd, and most of them looked like they bore wounds, but their faces remained neutral. Jagged lines and flaring symbols were scattered randomly around the inside of the disc. A great, four-headed beast with long, sinewy necks rose above the disc, and they fiercely snarled and growled at each other. The right side was divided by a broad line into two sections: top and bottom. On the top, there was a smaller version of the same disc, but the center contained a small circle and four jagged lines shot out in the diagonal directions to the edge of the disc. Each section had a symbol, of either an eye, mouth, nose, or ear, close to the edge of the small circle followed by a jagged, halting script filled with triangles, chevrons, and arrows. On the bottom, there was a third disc, but the center contained the empty silhouette of a round head and shoulders. The inside was filled with billowing, smoky shapes, interrupted by the same figures form the left, except they were laying down, and enclosed in boxes. Below the disc on the bottom was the four headed beast, but its necks lay limp, and its heads were facing the ground. “Do you know what this is?” Veralia asked. Nona leaned in and squinted at the mural, trying to jog his memory. If he even had a memory of what this was supposed to be. “Well, it looks like a picture,” he offered slowly, “of some event-- that happened a long time ago, maybe.” Veralia rolled her eyes, then said patiently, “If you don’t know something, it will be much easier for the both of us if you simply tell me. Since you still learning, it is ok to be ignorant; I am not going to expect you to know everything before it has been taught. Understand?” Part abashed and part mollified, Nona bowed his head and nodded. “Good. This is the Cataclysm,” Veralia said, glancing at Nona. Sensing his blank stare, she continued, “And you are technically right, the Cataclysm was an event that happened a long time ago. A war broke out between unknown factions of the Elder Race. We aren’t sure how, but, during a decisive battle, their mages must have lost control over an immensely powerful spell or multiple spells, which not only created the Wellspring and the Crags, but reshaped magic for the rest of history.” She pointed up at the top-right corner of the mural, “Whatever happened during the Cataclysm split magic into the Four Disciplines, and drastically decreased the potency of magic. There are spells from the Age Before that are still active to this day.” “Like what?” Nona interjected. “The Imperial City itself, for one. You’ve been here long enough to feel those tremors, right? That’s because the City’s been slowly expanding itself bit by bit for thousands of years. A spell like that would be impossible today, no matter how many mages worked on it. Any other questions?” “Yes, actually, what’s with the monster guy on the left?” “That is what we believe to be the One God, the god that the Elder Race worshipped. Clearly, it was involved in the Cataclysm, but how we are not sure.” “And I suppose the Cataclysm killed it,” Nona said, his eyes trailing to the bottom right corner of the mural. “Perhaps. That is, if gods can be killed and if the One God is even real. Nevertheless, that is certainly what the Elder Race believed.” Nona chewed on that thought for a moment before moving on, “Ok, so I’m pretty sure that this cloudy disc is supposed to be the Underrealm, but who is the guy in the middle?” “That is Hadon, the young god of the Underrealm. It seems that with the death of the One God, Hadon was born to take its place. It makes sense, considering that there is no evidence of any Nightbeasts, which would be agents of Hadon, before the Cataclysm, but there is precious little that has survived from the Age Before. Just because there is no evidence of Hadon before the Cataclysm does not mean he did not exist. It is best if you stay away from anything involving him.” “Why’s that?” “It’s complicated. And we will cover it later on, so do not concern yourself with him.” Nona didn’t have any more questions, so they promptly left the temple. As they were passing by the great statue in the main chamber, Nona decided that it really wasn’t that impressive. The mural was cooler. They stepped outside the temple, where Nightclouds were thickening in the air, turning the sky a dusky gray. “You did not ask why we came here today,” Veralia observed. “I’m still not sure what the Cataclysm has to do with principles of magic or whatever, but the mural was pretty neat. And, if I needed to know anything more about why we went, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?” Nona said simply, looking curiously at his mentor. She hesitated for a split second, then said, “Yes, of course I would. The purposes of this visit were twofold: one, magic can be dangerous. Do not ever test spells on yourself or on other people unless you are absolutely sure you can correctly execute the spell on inanimate objects first. Second, the Elder Race mages were very powerful in part because they learned to use all four Disciplines of magic. You have only used one, but if you can learn to use all four, you will learn to do much more than you would otherwise. Now, it is getting quite late, so I will be returning to my lodgings. Do you need help finding yours?” Nona shook his head, “I think I can find it on my own, thanks. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, I guess.” Veralia nodded, and then stalked off. With some time, and the very handy map, Nona eventually made it to his building as well. It was, as it seemed on the map, a very thin tower with a peaked top. The entire building was little more than a spiral staircase with landings, each of which had a door to a single room. He kept the little card that came with his key that told him his room number, so he swiftly climbed the stairs and found it. He gave the door an experimental push, and it swung open. Giving a quick mental thanks to Ahsante’s footman for his foresight, Nona entered his new home for the time being. It was cramped. The bed on the left took up half the space, and another chunk of space was taken up by a desk set by the far wall below the window, which had a small slot beneath it. His drawers were tucked beneath his bed, but there was another door in his room to his right. He poked his head inside, but there was nothing in there but a strange, white bowl-shaped chair. There was no chamber pot, so he guessed he’d have to ask for one later. Nona kicked off his shoes, took off his jacket and flopped in the bed. He closed his eyes. It had been a long day, but now he was here, and ready to become mage. But something felt off; Nona had that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that told him that something was missing. He leaned down and opened the drawers, but his bags were all there. He poked through them, but it seemed like everything was there. He shrugged, then laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes. A few seconds past, and then Nona suddenly shot up. Reke! He had completely forgotten! He scrambled to the desk, brushed aside a letter, and snatched up his key. He turned to leave, but then he realized he had mail. Maybe Reke had gotten somebody to send a letter on his behalf?