Ah, what an exhausting day of dagger sparring and archery training. Time to go home. I can already picture myself taking a relaxing bath in the pond.

I was expecting to arrive at my usual, peaceful village, but I saw the adverse. I used to deny the existence of the supernatural and demons, this day came to alter my beliefs.

The village is littered with weapons and bodies. Blazing flames and smoke covered the ambiance of what was once a serene place, which has now become the stage of a ruthless battle.

The air, which would normally carry sounds of birds, rivers, and wildlife, is now heavy with magic and battle cries. Hell has descended upon this area. An army of rebels and mages fight each other, and I have naught a clue about their agendas.

A feminine voice started calling my name, faintly, yet I cannot locate its source.

Over the gates, over the walls, over the distant fields, I looked around, emotionless. Aside from bloodshed, I saw nothing but fire, turning the dead bodies into ashes and devouring the houses down to cinders. With no side on the winning hand, the inferno could burn everything in this area long before the battle even finishes.

The voice persisted on calling my name, and each time it got louder, yet I still couldn't locate the source. It took me quite a while but I started to figure out that this is a dream.

I woke myself to the sight of a dark-haired sorceress, standing by as if she watched my slumber

"The heavy sleeper's finally conscious," said Abigail, staring with a smirk.

I still felt dizzy, and gave no reply. I found myself slouching on a table. Glancing around gave me sights of tankard on the floor, adjacent to spilled wine, fruits, and leftovers.

"You drank so much until you passed out last night," she said. "I tried stopping you but you were too resilient. Being that drunk just before we show ourselves to the sky warden won't make good first impressions. Are you alright?"

"I had a bad dream," I replied. "So...so much burning and death, it almost certainly felt real."

"I'm not surprised. That was about Benedict again, wasn't it?"

I stood up and stretched, then slowly walked out of the tent. Abigail followed.

We were camping in a specified coordinate in the remote area of the Mutagen Desert, where the Profaned Airship is currently bound to fly over during its roam around the territory of the Duchy of Mutagen. Only dunes, sand, and cacti can be seen in the horizon of any direction.

"You told me about the flames," she said. "How's your life been doing ever since the death of your cousin?"

"Remembering him depresses me," I replied. "Benedict was my last living relative. He was more than just my cousin, and more than just a Sentinel of the college. I treated him as if he were my brother. I vowed to protect him no matter what.

Eventually, time had come where I failed my duty. He died in the battle against the Serpents. I saw his demise, scorched to death by the Ember Seeker. He was a man of courage, a vanguard of the mages."

"Tragic, although how come you cowered out? You sworn to save his life."

I walked towards my horse, struggling with each step. I just want to caress him for no reason. Abigail watched.

"I hope you're not upset with the term I used."

"It's not cowering out," I explained, as I slowly backed away from my horse. "It's avoiding suicide. I don't stand a chance against the rogue mages, Abigail. I'm a bounty hunter. I was never properly trained in sorcery, and I never even made it to the college. What match does a crossbow have against an arsenal of deadly spells?

Well, I do know how to manipulate small embers, but that's not even close to novice pyromancy. Benedict taught me a couple of his tricks every once in a while during my occasional visits to the Arcane Domain."

"Why didn't he train you then?" she asked. "A man skilled in stealth, archery, and hand to hand combat, taught with arcane, could be a potential asset of justice. Why did you not enter the college, nor why did Benedict not teach you his advanced spells?"

"I never passed the test of faith. You're a sorceress. I assume you know the limitations of the college."

"The College of Arcanum has a variety of strands where laws differ from each. I was trained in the School of Illusion. Be it mimicry spells or soul flux, I could easily learn my deception abilities by simply observing the strategies of my fellow sorceresses, without even needing tomes- well, could be a challenge without tomes, but doable. What's your reason?"

"As you wish then. Although I have no concrete idea about the laws since I base on hearsay from Benedict, I find it true since he has a rank close to the archmage.

Pyromancy much more adept than candle lights are arduous and cannot be taught by word. It takes years of studying tomes and scrolls written by the arch-pyromancer himself in order to sear your opponents with fireballs. These scriptures are exclusive to students of the college. Similar laws may apply to the School of Cryomancy. Benedict is no thief, and I understand that. I don't deserve magic because I failed the test. My combat skills are enough. I'm destined to be a bounty hunter, not a mage."

I stopped caressing my horse, then aimlessly walked around.

"Rogue pyromancers post serious threats to the Continent. What do you know about the Ember Seeker?"

"He's a Sentinel of the college, just like my cousin. He's a traitor, a murder machine. He was the one responsible for the destruction of my home in the Arcane Domain. I'm not much into Arcanum Politics, but they said the Ember Seeker killed Benedict and burned the village as part of the Serpents' conquest against the college.

I fought all I could, but the Ember Seeker's powers are unfathomable."

I looked up at the sky, gazing at the nearby Profaned Airship. It was a wonder, washing my frown away. Its behemoth shadow covered a portion of the desert, darkening the ambiance as the bastion hovered. Horns blew, signaling our arrival. We were escorted to Hawkin, the lead engineer and warden of the airship.

Airship Deck
The Profaned Airship

"Are you two the bounty hunter and sorceress?" Hawkin asked. "Confirm your identity."

"Yes," I replied. "I am Ron Arlon, who serves as a bounty hunter of the Enclave of Meka. My partner here is Abigail Crysteffor, a sorceress from the Arcane Domain. She finished the Illusion school at the College of Arcanum. Her skills can be of great aid on whatever quest you shall give to us."

"Very well. That's all great, now surrender your weapons," he demanded, as mages came to us.

"Oy hold on, what's with the sudden need of security? You were the one who summoned us here. I'm a bounty hunter; my crossbow and twin daggers are necessary tools in my kit."

"Airship laws. Everyone, except the wardens, mages, and guards, shall be stripped off of lethal equipment during their stay. In your case, however, we shall store it strictly during the investigation for safety of the prisoner."

"Why would you protect the life of the prisoner anyway?"

"I am certain that I hired bounty hunter, not an assassin. Your job is to find and capture the Darkin Magus and have him detained. Accomplish the quest, and you will be handsomely rewarded. Any other action that relates not from the goal of the case shall be considered a crime against the Arcane Domain, and will be punishable."

"Makes sense, but how am I supposed to defend myself?" I asked, holding my armaments as I was about to surrender them.

"I've heard tall tales of Ron Arlon, the Bounty Hunter of Meka, captor of criminals, purging the enclave of injustice."

Hawkin's apprentice took my weapons.

"Surely you'll improvise with non lethal needs," said Hawkin.

"So be it," I said, scratching my head. "Now, now, my partner here is a magic caster and possesses no weapons. The School of Illusion has harming spells as well. What about her?"

Abigail and Hawkin shortly gazed at each other

"The vicinity of the airship nulls most sorcery," said Abigail. "I'm sure it's the reason you won't need weapons. You're safe from spells... er, most spells. Similarly, it's why no one has attempted an escape or assault yet, until recently, which is the current case we will be investigating."

"Sounds fair," I commented. "Forget the safety issues. Hawkin, enlighten us."

"To the point," said Hawkin as he withdrew from his stare. "Have you heard about the tales of the Darkin Magus? He's not only dangerous- well, actually he won't be, not in the vicinity of the airship, but don't disparage because he's deceptive as well.

He vanished with little trace, and we can't figure out good clues. We have not a single idea on how he even bypassed the null field, that is why you two are here at the airship. We know that the enclave's best bounty hunter and a sorceress from the college can be useful in deciphering leads and bringing the Darkin Magus back to where he belongs."

"We will need a better explanation than that to begin," I said. "What happened during the day of the escape? Were there witnesses? Even petty tracks can provide a decent start."

"You will find later in the Arcane Confinements," he replied. "Any other questions?"

"I have a plan before we head there. Where is his guardian? Every prisoner, or small groups of them, here at the airship must have assigned guardians or wardens. If it's possible we could chat, we can have a lead."

"You're talking about Samantha Flynn, the Darkin Magus's warden. She went on a two week leave with no reason other than visiting her family, hoping to chill out for a while, confident that the Darkin Magus will not go rogue."

"And you let her go on a relaxing vacation while a magus rank criminal just broke out of his cell, putting your airship and humanity in danger? Tell me, what rank have you even attained when you left the college?"

Hawkin showed no emotion. "Just follow me and I will show you his cell, I believe you can infer something," he said in a very serious tone.

(The ranks that can be acquired in the College of Arcanum depends on the skill and overall years studied of the arcanist, listed in descending order are as follows; Archmage, Grand Sorcerer, Sentinel, Magus, Sage, Initiate, and Apprentice.)

Arcane Confinements
The Profaned Airship

Every couple of steps taken on the floor made subtle cracks that echoed all around, which is most likely to detect anyone who tries to sneak out. Added the eerie ambient arcane sounds in this dark, bluish environment only lit by the handheld torches provided, I was struck with a somber mood.

"There are twelve prisoners here in the arcane confinements," explained Hawkin as we were walking. "Most of them are confirmed sages and magi."

"And the higher ranking ones?" I asked. I felt that the prisoners were staring at us, I didn't return the look.

"Remember, you are given access to all rooms and cells here at the airship, with the exception of the Null Tower, where we have confined ill-minded high ranked mages. The tower is not only dangerous for the prisoners; it poses the same perils for visitors and guardians as well. The null field in that tower does more than just silencing spells, and I refuse to speak of it. For the safety of you and your partner, access is restricted."

"I'm no magician. What should I even fear upon setting foot in the tower?"

"Restricted access means what it means, don't be arrogant," he said, then pointed at the cell to my right. "That's where the Darkin Magus is supposed to be. Investigate it."

The cell is in perfect condition; the bars are shut tight, the lock is sealed, as well as the chains. The only thing missing here is the prisoner himself.

"Abigail," I asked. "Can you try a spell on this bar to see if this is an illusion?"

"Null field," she replied. Only orange sparks came out of her hand when she tried casting something. "It's all up to you for now."

(That gesture and those orange sparks seemed familiar. I-I don't know why, but I swear I've seen them before. I need to focus on the case.)

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No no," I calmly replied, then looked at Hawkin. He's showing a neutral emotion. "Seriously Hawkin, why did you even take the hassle of inviting a sorceress for this quest if she can't cast magic in this area?"

"I figured you may ask that. I don't need her sorcery, young lad. I thought that one's intellect must surpass higher than those above average to acquire a rank of Grand Sorceress. Her wits are what I expect of her. She can go cast her fancy magic someplace else."

"Well that's flattering," said Abigail in a shy, awkward tone. "They said I'm well-known in the college for, uh, my illusion mastery and versatility, but thanks for acknowledging my rank."

"Anyway," I interrupted. "Let's open this cell and see what we can find inside."

Likewise, there's naught to be found inside except a regular prison cell. However, a small dent in the wall grabbed my attention. I placed my torch near it, revealing some markings. I touched it, and I was sure this was a combustible material. I moved the torch for the flame to make contact with the strange marking, creating a small ember. The flame gradually became stronger so I took a couple of steps back, creating a safe distance as the mark violently erupted and seared the wall, leaving a marking that says "XVII", written in cinders.

(That was pretty scary, my face nearly got burned. Strange, reminds me of something.)

"Well we're off to quite a start," I said, feeling anxious. "But what the hell is this number supposed to mean?"

"Seventeen," said Abigail. "That's it? Maybe the clue won't make sense for now, but we could need it later."

"And what do you think this seventeen means?"

"I know some things that relate to seventeen. There have been seventeen archmages that ruled the College of Arcanum, it's the year 1217, there are seventeen schools of magic in the college, etc. all those stuff. I'm sure there's many more."

"Makes little sense, I can't consider any of that as a lead. Now there, Hawkin, you said it's impossible to talk to Samantha at the moment."

"And," he replied, "what's your plan?"

"Is it possible I check the documents or logbooks of the airship? I'll investigate them myself."

Hawkin remained silent. He just gazed at me, like my I demanded something against him. I can't determine his emotion from his facial expression.

"No,"  he said after a few seconds, in a heavy voice. "Not at this time."

"Hey, that's crucial info that could give a lead. Why did you even invite us if you won't allow access to documents? Dear gods."

Again, he remained silent. His face started going red and he squinted his eyes, so I thought I'd go easy on him

"Ugh.. Can we, uhm, at least talk to the guards, mages, and wardens of the airship? They could provide clues."

He seemed unwilling, but at least he had the courtesy to reply. He sighed.

"Alright, meet me and the crew at the main deck. Stay here if you wish to investigate further."

Hawkin walked away, and he looked back after a couple of steps.

"Give us an hour to prepare. Go to the canteen if you're hungry, or rest at the crew's quarters if you please. All accommodations are free for you two during your stay at the airship."

He vanished into the darkness of the Arcane Confinements just before I could say my mocking gratitude.

Abigail was smiling right when I looked at her.

"You know," she said. "I remember another thing related to seventeen."

"And what is that?"

"My birthday falls on seventeenth of September, haha." She pats me on the back.

I know it's not a lead either, yet I can't help but fall for her contagious smile. It may not be the time for jokes while we're investigating a serious case, but at least she got to keep me in a positive mood after my discomfort with Hawkin's peculiar uncooperativeness.

"Alright enough with that now, let's head to the canteen. Could be my chance to ask around for clues."

Abigail and I have only been partners for this case, but an odd sensation tells me we've bonded longer than this.

**
(Pyromancy, Aquamancy, Cryomancy, Nature, Dark Arts, Light Arts, Wind, Necromancy, Geomancy, Storm, Healing, Illusion, Alteration, Crystal, Conjuration, Enchanting, and Chronomancy are the seventeen schools of the College of Arcanum)