The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 567: Arts and Culture

Between the drive and stopping to sightsee, they arrived at around 10:45. Most students had already finalized the paperwork in the prior months. Today was more of an orientation. Young folks filled with dreams of entering the industry sat about the yard. A massive tree, landmark for the expansive grounds, often held gathering by clubs, announcements from the faculty, and more. The lax way came from it being private as said the very expensive entry fee.

Stood at the westernmost area of the academic district – underground stations linked each district. Ease of movement was a must for the busy Capital City. Thus, after turning about many intersections, the university stood on in the distance, away from the ruffle of the hectic goings.

“We’re here,” said he pulling to the gate, “-excuse me,” the windows rolled.

“How might I help,” returned the guard kindly.

“The admission,” he pointed to a notice board, “-are open?”

“Yes,” said he, “-please go down the path and park to the right.”

“Alright, have a good day,” the window rolled back up.

.....

“Igna, I’m getting nervous.”

“Yeah, I can see,” returned he, “-sure look pale. Don’t worry,” stopped, “-have a little faith. Tis a start at a new life.”

“I guess,” the doors opened to a very natural-looking layout. Space gave room to breathe, the warm colors gave a sense of relief. Students and visitors walked about; many buildings laid separated for their proposed task. Makeshift signs led to the central building kept in the middle of other smaller buildings.

“This looks fun,” said he trying to settle her nerves. Lashes blinked far too many times. Her posture slumped mid-way across. ‘I’ve been here so many times before, the scenario. Eira, Lizzie, and now Celina. Why do I always take care of them? Is it guilt or what, I don’t even...’

“Hey, Igna,” her steps slowed, “-thanks for this. I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

“Why are you anxious then?” they stopped underneath the massive tree.

“I’m scared I’ll make things harder on you.”

“What are you even on about?” the head shook, “-I might look like a young adult, not a very responsible one. Yet, tis my responsibility to care for you. Don’t forget, I did sort of kidnap you from Alphia, I’m not afraid to admit my fault. So, does that suffice?”

Her anxious expression froze in disdain, “-seriously.”

“What’s the look for?”

“Motivating people isn’t really your forte, now is it, Igna?” said she in contempt.

“Quite the attitude for the lady who neared falling into tears a few seconds ago.”

“Go to hell,” she gave light playful punches, “-thanks for that.”

“Excuse me,” approached a younger-looking man, “-can I help?”

“Yes,” stern and focused, “-I’ve come for the admission.” éclair went over her registration during the drive.

“I see,” he nodded, “-please, follow me to the main building.”

Celina kept tight on his arms. Bystanders gave obvious looks of envy. Look-wise, Igna was dressed in a formal designer suit. An impactful impression seized the natural dominance. Celina’s outfit wasn’t poor either, they carved strong imprints. One thing stood out; the students were casually dressed to suit what was trendy. Long hair and a rough look for the male and oversized hoodies for the female.

“First time at the university?” asked the young man.

“Yes. Might I know a little more of the establishment?”

“Sure,” a smile flew over the shoulder, “-campus is mainly a place for arts and culture. Some study foreign ethos whilst many paint, learn music, dance, and anything in-between. It’s a good place to grow into the entertainment industry. To be fair, the influence of the pop idols of Alphia has very much enchanted Hidros. Cinema has also gotten very much attention. This culture of glitz and glamor has only just entered the norm. The youth are very much pleased by it. Old folks are stuck wishing for kids to be strong and fight. Look at that,” they arrived into a marble-floor lobby, “-I’ll inform the lecturers. Have a seat in the meantime.”

‘Arts and Culture,’ elaborate paintings displayed on the very encumbered lobby. Many went back and forth, some were doused in paint, others chatting about music. The distant sound of piano gave a vague sense of what’s in store.

“Excuse me,” another man approached with gray hair and glasses, “-are you perhaps?”

“I don’t believe it,” said Igna, “-the discolored hair. Mr. Rocher Cartney, what a pleasure.”

“I apologize,” taking a step back, “-are we perhaps acquainted?”

“Acquainted, please, do you not remember me,” he smiled, “-how bad is your memory?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Please,” the head shook, “-does Alphia bring memories, our performance, the challenge?”

“Igna Haggard?” he squinted, “-it is you,” the face lightened, “-leave us be,” said he to the assistant. Quite a few threw confused glances, mainly the receptionists. “I apologize, my glasses have gotten a little worse.”

“No, that would be your eyes,” returned he. “-I’m surprised to see the renowned snob-pianist out here of all places.”

“Please,” moved closer, “-don’t call me snobbish, it’s embarrassing.”

“Alright,” the teasing stopped, “-I presume you work here?”

“Yes, I teach classical music for those who wish to pursue the path of music, true music.”

“Good to hear the strong personality stands true.” For a moment, the pianist stood in silence baffled by a passing landscape painting.

“Cartney, is anything the matter?” he glanced at the canvas.

“Sorry, sorry,” quick to his wits, “-the application, follow me to the auditorium. To enter the music class, one must pick an instrument and play. Tis for the instructors to gauge their level.”

“What about beginners?” asked he.

“Same thing, except the playing part. I didn’t expect you to enroll here.”

“Not me actually. This young lady here wishes to learn music. It’s her dream to be a musician.”

“I see,” he gave a once over, “-the admission is rather expensive.”

“Cartney,” he smirked, “-things are different in Hidros.”

*Interview,* a small line waited before a double door. Students and their mentors, “-care to explain?”

“Sure,” said Cartney, “-many who enroll here are nobles. They pursue the study of arts and culture to broaden their minds. Tis a place for people to become independent and grow, a good atmosphere. To be surrounded by talented people working towards a singular objective.”

“Not that good if you ask me,” remarked Igna, “-the pressure can just as easily break someone’s confidence.”

“As you did during our playing session,” said he straight-faced. Many looked upon the pianist in envy, the reputation, and skill behind was a thing of praise. Similar to a knight renowned around the kingdom, Cartney was one in his own rights.

“What exactly does the renowned pianist do here?” asked Igna with a very obnoxious tone.

“Come on,” returned he softly, “-still holding a grudge?”

“Not really. Watching you get flustered is very entertaining.”

“Well, I don’t enjoy it in the least,” the flow of words was tantamount to mothers meeting their friends, the talk continued as the kid watched in utter boredom. Celina took the role of the kid; she watched and didn’t understand a thing they said.

“First time here?” inquired the girl next in line.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Same here, do you have any musical experience?”

“I know the basics I guess.”

“I see,” she smiled, “-I got interested in the violin, so I asked my father to enroll me here. By the way, what family do you belong to? I’m from the Hart lineage, the name’s Jonia Hart, daughter of Marquess Hanet Hart.”

“Good to make your acquaintance, lady Hart.”

“Please,” returned she with an air of superiority, “-call me Hart. What about you?”

“...” turned to Igna, “-I’m C-Celina.”

“Family name?” asked she forcefully.

“Haggard,” interjected Igna,”-her name’s Celina Haggard.”

“Haggard?” she paused to open her eyes, “-that Haggard?”

“Yes, the one and only,” said he, “-please get along with my little sister. She’s a bit awkward.”

“And who might you be?” inquired a well-built man standing beside the young lady.

“Is it not polite to give one’s name first?” refuted Igna.

“My apologies. My name’s Nicola Vonhen Hart, the eldest son, and heir to the Hart family.”

‘Boastful and smug,’ thought he, ‘-nobles of Hidros are one and the same.’

“Igna,” whispered Celina, ‘-what’s that about?’ wrote across her face.

“Pleasure is mine. I’m Igna Haggard, son of the Duchess of Rotherham. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Duchess of Rotherham,” he gulped, “-I see. The pleasure is likewise.”

Currently under the royal family were, Goldberg, Haworth, and Riviera, ranked from strongest to weakest were the three major dukedoms of Oxshield. The Hart family served under Haworth. Marquess was always titles bestowed to the assistants of the dukes. Likely candidates to succeed the title of duke if the prior patriarch fails. So was the balance for decades. The Haggard’s dynasty – once royalty of the Ardanian crown climbed the ranks in arms, money, and influence during Argashield Federation’s reign. Things didn’t look very hopeful, the Haggard left the federation as a neutral party and chancellor to a life of peace. The influence remained tangible. Add the title of Duchess and recognizing Rotherham as its own dukedom toppled the balance. Prosperity was on par if not greater than the royal capital – thus, the Haggards stood at the top. Goldberg’s and their puppet ruler were only there to keep ambition in check. None knew where they came from, nor how they fight up the ladder, reality was, the Haggard had favors from the people and the royal family. Most of it came from lady Elvira and Courtney’s unsurmountable talent in politics. That being said, none of it would have been possible without groundworks laid by an orphan.

“Lord Haggard, might I ask the reason of such a visit?” the eldest son Hart sang a different tune.

“My little sister wanted to learn music, who am I to refuse her whims?”

“I see,” he held the bogus smile.

“Lady Hart, if you don’t mine,” she curtsied, “-I’d like to become your friend.”

.....

“The pleasure is all mine,” said she returning the courtesy.

“Goodness,” exhaled Igna, “-I’ll leave the young ladies to chat.”

“As you wish,” said Nicola a little stumped by the exchange.

“Lady Haggard,”

“-No, call me Celina, it’s less formal.”

“Then, call me Jonia,” the subject changed, “-are you related to Prince Julius?”

“I suppose,” said she.

“Oh my,” her face melted, “-he’s so handsome. Do you think I can get his autograph?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Ask my brother.”

“No, I can’t,” said she, “-if I ask your brother, then I’ll be putting my love to Prince Julius in jeopardy. Don’t get me wrong, your brother is very handsome too. Too many hot guys, I can’t take it,” she stumbled.

“Forgive my sister,” said Nicola, “-she’s a little crazed about the idols.”

The conversation returned to Igna and Cartney. “-I didn’t expect you to be a noble of such high status,” remarked the latter.

“Tis nothing more than bragging rights. Cartney, could I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I want you to teach Celina, teach her the ways of classical music. I know she wants to be an idol. Regardless, classical music is a very strong foundation. Idols are often one-shot wonders, in said aspect, classical musicians are grounded and knowledgeable.”

“Finally accepted it?” asked he in wait to celebrate the victory.

“I never said I was against classical music,” returned he monotonously.

“Fine then, give me a moment.” The interviews stopped to which Cartney returned ten minutes later. Many bystanders watched in contempt.

“Igna,” said he sternly, “-I’ll accept to teach Lady Celina in the ways of classical music on one condition.” Murmurs dashed about as he rarely ever took on apprentices. Either one was a genius at the piano or an excellent violinist. Neither money nor fame interested him, tours around the globe made his teaching the more special and sought-after.

“Whatever you need,” said he carelessly.

“Play in my ensemble as the primary guitarist whenever the time calls for.”

“Excuse me?” time stopped, expression froze, breaths held, the condition shocked most who stood.

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