Hyperion Evergrowing

Chapter 159: Dimid

The seaborn mist was still rolling over the archipelago as Leif stepped through the portal arch, seamlessly teleporting from one hub building to another in less than a breath. Three guards turned at his approach, though they otherwise ignored him as he marched past. There were few students around this early in the morning, but Leif was hardly the only person walking the dimly lit streets and hallways of the Academy.

A minute later he exited the towering structure that served as the portal hub. It was identical to the other hubs, though the surrounding structures were not. If Lutum was spread out and forested, and Pellus was developed and urban, then Dimid was rocky and steep. A single, wide road stretched out before him, cutting straight down the centre of a valley strewn with boulders and stones larger than the buildings that lined the street.

Though that wasn’t quite accurate. The boulders were buildings, entranceways and windows were carved into the rock, and Leif could sense the vitality of those stirring to wakefulness within rooms hollowed out of stone. Halfway down the road stood the administration building for the island, it was wide and short, pushed up against a cliff wall as if trying to melt into the wall. The scion stepped inside, only to find that the main reception hall was sunkern down a level, stone steps needing to be descended in order to enter the structure proper.

So much for not going underground. Leif mused, taking two steps at a time. A candle flickered in a small bowl in the single occupied booth. Two people, a middle aged man and woman stood just off to the side, quietly conversing in hushed voices. Leif guessed they were faculty, though neither wore any uniform or identifying markers.

He gave them a short nod, and they returned the gesture before walking off through a side door which, Leif noticed, also led down a flight of stairs. The official behind the occupied desk sat up as he approached, stifling a yawn behind his hand and blinking tiredly.

“Good morning.” Leif said, placing a hand onto the carved stone desk between them. “I was pointed in this direction by a third year student. It’s about the temple excavation occurring on the island.”

“Oh, okay. Hold on.” The official said, leaning over to shuffle through a box full of papers.

Leif had spent the night in Sieg and Marcus’s apartment. There had been an available bedroom, but the scion had remained on the balcony after the two humans had gone to bed, Sieg willingly, and Marcus being forcibly dragged away from his project. The arcanist had wanted to use Leif’s magic to pull an all nighter and get his paper complete by the morning, but he had been out voted. Considering that the man had passed out the instant his body had made contact with the bed, it had been for the best.

The official cleared his throat, tapping the bottom of a small stack of documents on the desk to straighten them out. “Uh, let’s see here. The temple excavation… oh, wait. Can I see identification?”

Leif produced the Academy token, when the official sniffed for some reason, then returned it.

“Okay, sure. I can’t give you all the information, but I can tell you who’s in charge and where to go if you want to get yourself involved for whatever reason.”

“Thank you.” Leif said. “That would be helpful.”

“Alright. The professor in charge of the excavation is Goodwil. Uh, professor Goodwil that is. Her office is in the clay lecture hall. Do you know where that is?”

Leif shook his head. The official cursed under his breath and ducked out of sight to rummage through more documents.

“I’ve never heard of professor Goodwil, is there anything I should know about her?”

The official sighed, placing a slightly faded map of the island onto the desk. “No, not really. That’s not true, sorry. She works mostly in the Academy’s main library on Pellus, but she used to teach and host lectures here on Dimid. She was the… niece, I think, of the previous spire master.”

Leif leaned forward to study the map. Apparently there was a mountain towards the centre of the island. A little one, but it was still a mountain. “Do you know what times she is available for a meeting? Or do I need to schedule something?”

“No, it should be all good.” The official yawned, pointing on the map with a finger. “This is where the clay lecture hall is, not to be confused with the clay training hall, which is next door. Uh, let me check… It says she’s free from nine to ten, and four to five. So you’re a few hours early . Is there anything else I can do for you?”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Leif could tell by the man’s tone that he was really hoping that there would be no further questions. Unfortunately, Leif had time to kill, and there was nobody else in the hall. “Sure. Could you give me a rundown of the island’s history? And an explanation of the main facilities?”

The official slumped, then complied.

===

The clay lecture hall was actually several lecture halls all contained within the same massive building. Students, almost all of whom sported the symbol of the crane and spear somewhere on their uniforms, swarmed in and out of the different rooms and choked the hallways. The oldest of them looked to be in their early twenties, like Marcus and Sieg, while the youngest looked to be barely in their teens.

The Academy valued aptitude, the age of its students was less important than their willingness to learn and grow. A nearby door was open, a professor loudly explaining the intricacies of different cultivation skills, and the best way to develop them. Leif’s [Font of Life] skill, a fusion of cultivation and spellcasting granted to him by the system a year prior had stagnated in its advancement, and he had intended to solve that problem by coming to the Academy. While it was tempting to stay in the doorway and listen, he had a different reason for visiting.

An alcove branched off from the corridor, with several doors lining a far wall. Each was labelled with a metal plaque, and each plaque was etched with a name. The one proclaiming ‘Goodwil’ was the closest, so Leif walked right up to it and knocked. There was no reply at first, though he could sense the presence within the office slowly shuffling around the room. Finally the door turned and a reed thin older woman poked her narrow nose out at him.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” She said, seeming to look down on him over her glasses, despite being well over a head shorter.

“Professor Goodwil, I presume?” Leif said, dipping his head in greeting. “I was hoping to discuss the excavation of the newly discovered structures on this island. I was told you were in charge of the project.”

Goodwil sniffed, adjusting her glasses. “It isn’t every day somebody as sinister looking as you shows up at my office. Do you wear the mask to frighten children, hmmm?” Her voice was nasally and her lips were pursed. “I suppose you came to our grand institution along with the parasites from the capitol. Tell me, boy, why should I even hear you out?”

“Because I’m friends with the student who discovered the temple. He’s a third year from Lutum called Marcus. He told me that the excavation may interest me, and I believe I have skills that may assist in the uncovering of the past.” Leif replied, not breaking eye contact with the professor.

She sniffed again, and shuffled to the side. “I don’t suppose you’re an affiliate of the Academy…?”

Leif produced his token. “It just so happens that I am.”

“Fine, fine. Come on in. We’re short on people now that the quadriad is underway. Apparently watching children beat each other half to death with sticks and their poor excuses for magic is more important than discovering the truth of the ruins our civilization uses as its foundation.”

The scion stepped into the office, the door clicking shut behind him. “The duels between the Blades is an educational experience, I’m sure you’d agree?”

“Hmmm. I suppose. If someone’s goal in life is to get themselves killed in the fruitless pursuit of power they may as well learn from the best. Now, what did you say your classes were? How does a clown intend to assist me in my work?”

Leif let the clown comment slide, taking a seat. He wouldn’t tell her the truth, but he would tell her just enough to get her interested. “I have a class associated with learning from, and embodying the past in certain ways. I can feel the weight of history that underlines the Academy. And if I get close enough to the temple, I may be able to identify the reasons for its creation, perhaps the reason for its destruction.

She raised a narrow, grey eyebrow. “Interesting. Interesting indeed. I can read the truthfulness of your words, and you most certainly have my intrigue piqued. I don’t suppose you’re willing to share the name and description of your class?”

“Sorry, professor. But I am not.”

“Hmmm, a waste. We keep too many secrets, even when sharing knowledge would benefit us all. What is your name, boy?”

“Leif. Leif Vin.”

“Well, Mr Vin. I suppose I can give you a chance to prove yourself useful. The earth mages will be unavailable for the next few days, some fools damaged the underground foundation of the arena yesterday so they’ve been pulled away. Meet me and my team at the granite sparing fields at ten in three days.”

Leif bowed in his seat. “I will be there, thank you, professor.”

She sniffed, leaning back in her chair. “No need to thank me, Mr Vin. I’m willing to take all the help I can get. I’ll take any volunteers that wander into my office, assuming they aren’t as dumb as a sack of bricks. Speaking of, if you could try and rope that [Seeker], the boy who discovered the temple back into the excavation, that would be wonderful.” “You want Marcus?”

“Apparently he’s busy. On what I can’t imagine. Children can never focus on what’s really important, it’s a damn shame.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He said.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!