Millennium Witch-Book 3: Chapter 207: City of Truth
The tip of her small nose was almost pressed to the thick porthole. Her breath fogged the glass with a thin sheen of vapor, blurring the endless pallid-gray sea of clouds outside. She hurriedly wiped it with her sleeve, and a companion’s reminder sounded by her ear: “Airship meals are here—time for lunch.”
She turned her head and saw a face as ordinary as they came. Its owner was a girl about her age, with chestnut short hair and pitch-black eyes. A dark trench coat wrapped a rather slight frame. She looked short on sleep; even her voice came out listless.
Accepting the meal box and spoon the companion handed over, the redhead tucked her hair behind an ear and pulled a face. “Did you really have to change yourself into… this?”
“What’s wrong with it?” the chestnut-haired girl yawned lazily.
“I’m so not used to it—.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“You only changed yesterday. How am I supposed to adjust this fast—” the redhead grumbled. She opened the airship meal box, took a bite of the seafood fried rice, and grimaced. “This is… awful—”
“As usual.”
“Tickets are that expensive and they can’t serve decent food? What a ripoff.”
“I told you to buy the luxury cabin.”
“That’s way too pricey.”
“I could’ve paid for you.”
“I don’t need you paying for me—”
“So you made me squeeze into economy with you?” The chestnut-haired girl gave her a look.
“Heh-heh.”
These two girls by the economy cabin window were, of course, Lucia and Yvette.
A little over a month ago they’d taken a carriage out of Sanggren Village and, after a circuitous journey, reached the royal capital of the Kingdom of Kisul—for a simple reason: there was an Academy of Truth airship route there, a direct line from the capital to the Academy.
Otherwise, going purely by carriage—never mind the distance—the jolting alone would be torture.
So they bought tickets priced at a steep eighteen silver coins, boarded yesterday, and after a day and a night were finally nearing their destination. In terms of efficiency, it truly left carriages in the dust.
The only thing was, because she balked at the two-gold-coin luxury tickets, Yvette let herself be strong-armed by Lucia into buying economy. The result: crammed into the same space with a horde of foreign travelers—and even dwarves and beastkin.
Never mind the racket from the less-civil sorts; the mysterious personal funk in the air was enough to make anyone suffer. Yvette had to keep quietly purifying the air with wind magic without a break. The experience was… not ideal.
Soon, after finishing the airship meal and handing the box to a steward, Yvette took out a newly bought little mirror and studied her current face, checking for technical flaws and spots that could use a tweak.
The delicate, pleasant—yet overall unremarkable—little face she wore now was, naturally, “pinched” into shape with light-and-shadow magic.
She hadn’t wanted to go that far, but after leaving Sanggren her too-striking looks and the silver hair and red eyes had brought no end of trouble on the road.
So, the evening before boarding, thinking ahead, she crafted a false face with light-and-shadow magic and kept it up at all times. So far the results looked pretty good—no obvious seams yet.
As a side note, she’d shortened her hair using her own tentacular morphing ability.
Hm? Where did the snipped length go? Obviously it turned into aberrant mana. It was almost nothing—but better than wasting it, right?
On the other side, despite sleeping poorly on the airship last night, Lucia was still bright-eyed and lively. Beyond nerves about arriving in a strange place, the main reason was that an airship journey was just too novel for a country girl like her. The view beyond the porthole and the many different races in the cabin kept her rapt.
She also noticed many boys and girls her age—shabbily dressed but bright-eyed, full of hope. No doubt, like her, they were here for the spring admissions a month from now.
Amid the humming chatter, the airship cruised smoothly, like a great liner plowing through a sea of congealed milk.
Several more hours passed and dusk approached. Around six or seven in the evening, with a slight jolt and a whistle of steam, the pilot’s flat came over the broadcast: “Aerial Port of the City of Truth ahead. Please prepare for arrival.”
Lucia whipped around, pressed to the window, and peered out, wide with curiosity.
Gradually the scene outside changed. Under the dimming twilight the clouds thinned. Countless fine snowflakes came head-on, striking the glass and melting at once.
Below, the silhouette of a grand city emerged in the winter gloaming. From this angle its street grid was extraordinarily regular, utterly unlike the sprawling disorder of Autumnwind City or the Kisul royal capital. It was obvious the planners had laid everything out carefully from the very start.
More striking still, along the crisscrossing streets, warm-toned magitech streetlamps kindled one by one, taking the place of the myriad household lights of ordinary towns. Stone-brick façades were laced with metal piping; white steam vented out, melting the drifting snow.
Every corner of the city was remarkably clean. Green belts were everywhere, lush and thriving.
The cabin fell suddenly quiet. Every first-time visitor was struck dumb by the orderly, beautiful urban vista.
Yvette watched in silence too. She felt the City of Truth’s design had surely taken cues from Ish City. From Autumnwind to the Kisul capital the scenery had been straight out of the Middle Ages—yet here, it was as if they’d stepped straight into the Industrial Age. Definitely Rosalyn’s handiwork.
Just then Lucia cried, “What’s that?”
Yvette followed her gaze and saw, hanging in the sky above the City of Truth, a shadow like an upside-down mountain—arresting and stark.
A second later, a nearby stewardess eagerly explained, “That’s the Academy of Truth’s famed ‘Sky Realm’—a real garden in the air! They say five hundred years ago, the Legendary Mage set that floating island there. To this day, no one knows how it stays up without ever falling. Perhaps that’s the might of the God of Truth and Magic!”
At that, Yvette glanced again at the shadow in the sky, guessing there might be a magic array inside that continually supplied mana.
In the Origin Civilization, such an array would be impossible—the elemental concentration on the Origin Star was too low. You couldn’t even unlock the “magic array” skill, much less prop up an entire island. Only nano-scale mana circuits could function, a kind of micro–magic array at best.
But the Radiant Continent was different. The elemental concentration here was at least twenty times that of the Origin Star. When she first arrived, the very first thing she had to learn was to rein in her mana, lest she accidentally injure—or kill—someone. In an environment this blessed, keeping an island afloat forever with arrays was at least theoretically possible.
Emphasis on “theoretically.”
Half an hour later, the airship let out another long whistle and settled onto a wide, brilliant, brightly lit metal platform within the City of Truth.
“Let’s go.” Yvette rose calmly. Together with Lucia she picked up her luggage and joined the queue out the hatch.
A skim of snow lay on the mirror-bright platform floor. There wasn’t the slightest stable-stench you’d get at ordinary coach stops.
After paying a hefty five-silver entry fee, they joined the flow of people across a skybridge and into a domed building—the airship terminal.
In the hall leading to the exits, Lucia noticed Yvette’s steps pause, her gaze lifting toward the center.
She looked too and saw, in the middle of the hall, a massive double statue standing tall—carved of some white jade, it radiated a solemn, sacred air impossible to ignore.
Both figures were women, one tall and one shorter, long hair cascading like a waterfall. The taller stood straight-backed, gentle-browed, holding up a crystal like a magic cube—symbol of the truths of magic and the structure of order. The shorter was likewise elegant, but her face was left uncarved—just the outline of a young girl.
“Oh! That’s the Legendary Mage and the Silver Witch, right?” Lucia hurried over, pressed her palms together, and offered a serious bow. “O God of Truth and Magic, O God of Serendipity, please see me through the exam—”
All around the statue, almost every traveler was doing the same.
The Legendary Mage was the world’s savior and the founder of the Academy of Truth. Coming to sit for the Academy’s exam—who dared be irreverent? The other was the Legendary Mage’s teacher and, in popular belief, the god most emblematic of good fortune. With both appearing together, not praying would be the oddity.
May your wishes be granted—and if they aren’t, don’t blame me. Watching the massed devotions, Yvette thought to herself on the side.
Half a minute later Lucia finished praying.
Seeing the chestnut-cropped girl standing there with a blank face, she couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you going to pray?
Maybe the God of Serendipity will grant you some luck.”
What would I even pray for? Yvette thought, amused.
Still, with everyone bowing and only her not doing it, she’d look out of place. With that in mind, she sighed, copied Lucia’s motions, shut her eyes, and muttered something under her breath. When she was done, she opened her eyes and asked curiously, “Aren’t you a believer of the Tree God? You can pray to other deities too?”
“That’s different. The Evergreen Revelation’s scripture says plainly the Legendary Mage and Silver Witch are the Tree God’s branches and fruit made flesh. Honoring them is honoring a part of the Tree God.” Lucia frowned in puzzlement. “Yvette, how do you not even know that?”
Yvette’s expression didn’t change. “I—only worship the God of Serendipity. Never heard that one.” She paused. “Do other churches spin the God of Truth and Magic and the God of Serendipity like this too?”
She had read the Evergreen Revelation’s scripture, but after a few minutes she’d wanted to chuck it. She hadn’t known that she and Rosalyn were in there—turned into incarnations of the Tree God. The nerve.
If she’d known, she’d have pilfered more faith elements back then.
Lucia shook her head, hesitating. “I—I don’t know. But it seems like the Legendary Mage and the Silver Witch are special—maybe because there’s no official church? Other churches won’t brand you a heretic for worshiping those two.
But if you worship a god with an official church, that’s not okay—and Eldritch Gods are right out.”
“I see.”
After a long look at the Legendary Mage’s gentle, lovely features, Yvette didn’t linger. Together with Lucia she left the terminal and stepped onto the streets of the City of Truth.
Here, the traffic was still horse-drawn, and people’s dress and the architecture weren’t wildly different from outside—just more refined, speaking of a great city’s polish.
“Yvette, what do we do next?” Lucia looked all around. Her eyes ran over the magitech streetlamps, the rows of townhouses and manors, and the pretty park in the distance. She felt very much like a country girl touring a grand estate for the first time.
No wonder so many who’ve been to the City of Truth say they want to stay forever and never go back—of course it makes sense!
Compared to the City of Truth, what difference is there between Autumnwind City—or even the Kisul royal capital—and the shabby countryside?
“Find an inn first. Tomorrow we’ll see what places there are to rent,” Yvette said.
Spring admissions ran from February to March, and term didn’t start until late March. Since the Academy itself didn’t provide student dorms, renting a comfortable, commute-friendly place would matter for years.
Inns weren’t hard to find; inns at the right price took some work.
Yvette wasn’t all that fixated on value for money—she wasn’t short of coin—but Lucia still was. And she refused to take Yvette’s money for nothing—an interest-free loan was out too. She’d rather be frugal herself.
After quite a search, they finally found a suitable place and checked in.
Once the double room was set, Yvette took out a slim booklet she’d bought earlier—All You Need to Know About Applying to the Academy of Truth—and read it carefully. Lucia asked beside her, “Yvette, where are we going tomorrow?”
“District Nine,” Yvette said without looking up.
“District Nine?”
“Also called the College of General Studies.”
“You’re applying to General Studies?”
“Mm.”
“Why?” Lucia stared at her, startled.
She’d read the little guide to the Academy and its entrance exams too. She knew there were nine divisions within the Academy, with very different courses of study.
Of them, General Studies was the most unusual—and considered the most useless—because it alone didn’t teach magic. It taught things unrelated to magic: continental history, myth and folklore, physical geography, astronomy and anatomy, civil engineering, politics and public life, and the like.
She couldn’t fathom why someone with top-tier magical prowess like Yvette would pass up divisions tailored for elemental mages—like the Elemental Sanctum—to go to General Studies of all places.
Yes, General Studies had a name for that sort of thing—but who came to the Academy of Truth to study that?
Book 3: Chapter 207: City of Truth
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