Snippet: The Day of No Jackets

It's sad to see how many times I tried and failed at writing something. The more of these I read, the more I want to make this year the year I use all my D&D training as well as my knowledge of creative writing from college to write SOMEthing that has a beginning, middle, and end that I made all on my own. Anyway... This "attempt at an epic novel" was basically me rewriting my own life to be set in a fantasy universe. The worldbuilding was clearly meant to parallel my actual life, and while I get the idea of Ando being a linguist being a possibly interesting plot element, I had no idea where I was going with the conflict. I just wanted spring to come and to get started writing anything. They say write what you know, but in my case, that turned out to be really boring.

The Day of No Jackets

An attempt at an epic novel by Austin Ballard

The birds were singing outside the University. This was not a rare occurrence, but most of the time it did not fit the situation. For months on end you could hear a bird sing, but not know where it was singing from on account of the flurrying snow; Nor could you, on most occasions, understand why the birds were singing. Their song was ever joyful, announcing a spring that hadn’t come for nearly half a year.

            Such was the weather of the land of Ricard’s Ville. Other parts of the United Lands, or so rumor went for those rich enough to travel, were much warmer, and some had no seasons at all. This was an odd concept for Ando, who had been born and raised in Ricard’s Ville, and hence had no concept of anything but a half year of winter, followed by six months for the other three seasons to fight over.

            Sure, the winter weather got annoying sometimes, even for a native like Ando. It was all very welcome at first, coming right before Graymansnight, snowing light flakes over the grass that was dead and may as well be covered anyway. And it was all widely nostalgic in popular culture and stories to have a white blanket on the ground during Nativity’s Eve. It seemed odd to think of the green-eyed Daskian people from the southwest United Lands celebrating Nativity under palm trees.

            Despite the welcome arrival of winter and its refreshing weather, there came a time, just around Lover’s Day, when the snow seemed to turn from white to gray, and the shadows from lack of sunlight began to darken everyone’s mood. Merchants were more reluctant to count your change, the police were crabbier and more likely to write you a ticket for loitering, and people just seemed to mutter to themselves as they sogged through the brown slush.

            It is precisely during this gloomy time of year, when everyone is looking forward with vigorous anticipation to the Day of No Jackets, that our story begins.

            As was said before, the birds were chirping in the University. The frostcrows were also cawing, perhaps in protest of their season coming to an end, but the fact was that the sun was shining today, rather merrily, in fact. It might have already been spring, or the Day of No Jackets itself, if there were not a crisp breeze rustling the dead leaves on the ground.

            Ando thought the yellow and brown grass was beautiful. The other day he had looked at old photographs of the previous summer, and admired the brilliant green grass of the lawns he had mowed for his job, but after all the dirty snow that was melting, the grass could be white and prickly for all he cared. Grass was grass, and not snow.

            There Ando sat admiring it, at the metal bench table in front of the science building, eating his lunch. He was wearing his dark blue jacket with the golden runes on the sleeves, his tan pants with the pockets, and a yellow tunic. He was eating a cold barbecued sandwich with corn chips from a brown paper sack, and he chewed thoughtfully as he inhaled the nearly-spring air. He couldn’t believe the long winter was almost over. He looked forward to enjoying a delicious lime-flavored icecone after work, bronzed from the summer sun and muscular from pushing a heavy lawnmower. He had just found out two weeks earlier that he had once again established his trade with Mr. Insh, the master lawnmower. It would be another long, hot summer full of work, and with the royals he earned he could buy himself a new scryer.

            The University bell tower clanged. Ando stuffed the last piece of sandwich in his mouth and tucked the chips into his jacket pocket for later. He gathered up his paper notebook and pens as students began filing out of the science building doors, backpacks slung over their shoulders, looking eager for once to be outside. They looked at the grass and nodded knowingly to one another, some mentioning the Day of No Jackets aloud, though everyone knew without saying it that it must be close. It was a wonderful day to begin the school semester.

            Ando walked through the science building’s glass doors and down the hall. There were charts and maps on the walls, describing the four elements and all of their many laws and theories. Ando had chosen to study alchemy and elementalism on the side of his language training, partly out of the encouragement of his mother, but also because the composition of the world intrigued him. Weather magi, alchemists, elementalists, and a few geomancers filled the building, sitting on hallway benches, walking quickly or talking to each other. Rooms passed, some filled with vials and flasks, others with shelves of rocks. Once Ando passed a door that was radiating cold air like an icebox and shivered.

            Ando found a room with black plaque above it that read CXII. He checked the slip of paper in his pocket, and then entered into the chamber lined with charts and pictures of previous revolutionary elementalists. There were only two or three other students inside. He quietly shuffled into an empty row and looked at the clock. He was early.

            The master had not yet arrived, so Ando took out a pen and paper and began to write. He had just managed to master the difference between the GH and GK runes of the Writhian alphabet, and had been able to pick them out of texts he had glanced at in the school library. Now he was working on being able to write sentences with them. This language had been particularly tricky to learn, but he was making progress. He had already learned Yrittian, Daskian, and Noiyan to the point of being able to read them. Ando only wished he could have more experience speaking the languages. Luckily, he realized, the University was the place to be to fuel his passion for language. There were several students from different parts of the United Lands who studied here. It was only a matter of time before he could meet one of them in person and practice speaking their tongue.

            Ando straightened his chair and looked around. Several more students had entered the room, each in university tunics of varying colors. Each was wearing a jacket, which they soon threw around the back of their chair before sitting down. Ando looked back at his rune sheet, and scratched out a rune or two.

            “Hello!” Ando looked up to see a young man standing next to him. “This seat is taken?”

            “No, go ahead,” said Ando. He opened a pocket in his backpack and hurriedly slipped the paper inside.

            “What was that you were writing?” asked the boy, wrapping his gray jacket around his seat. The young man had reddish black hair and a snub nose. He was shorter and broader than Ando, and had a thin beard, as if he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.

            “Just some notes,” said Ando. He had learned from previous school experience, at least in the country school of Ricard’s Ville, that his hobby was one many people thought strange.

            “Eh,” said the young man. “Our name is Hadge. Which is yours?”

            Ando hesitated. His accent was very intriguing. “It’s… Ando.”

            “You like alchemy?” he asked. He began to unload his backpack, placing binders and pens on the desk. “We like alchemy. It is our first time away from home, and we are excited to spend it learning at this University.”

            “Where are you from?” asked Ando.

            “We are from Sarbandia. Do you know it?”

            Ando struggled to understand. He couldn’t embarass the young man, or himself, by lagging behind in his language. “I’m… not sure I’ve ever heard of it. Is it in the east?”

            Hadge lifted his finger in the air and waggled it. “Not. It is south of here. Very south.”

            Ando thought carefully. In his study of the United Lands tongues, he had never heard of Sarbandia. Perhaps it was a smaller city in the south, though if it was too far that direction, or “very south” as Hadge had said, it would have to be a desert city.

            “And you are from where?” asked Hadge.

            “Here in Ricard’s Ville. Born and bred,” said Ando proudly.

            “It is very cold here,” Hadge said. “We do not like the weather here. We had to buy this jacket just to keep warm.”

            Ando noticed how heavy the gray jacket was. At least three times the thickness of his own. He was about to say something when the master spoke. He hadn’t even realized the class was full and ready to start.

            “Welcome, everyone!” the master was a shorter man with glasses and gray hair to his shoulders. He gripped the lectern with stubby hands and his face wrinkled when he smiled. “Welcome to First Alchemy. I’m sure you’re all excited to get started. By show of hands, how many of you have already studied alchemy, perhaps in country school?”

            Several hands shot up, including Hadge’s. Ando’s stayed still.

            “Excellent. My name is Master Alchemist Crango Perryson. Since I am the only Master Alchemist you will be having this semester, and since my first name is rather irrelevant in this day and age, you may all call me Master Perryson.” Master Perryson stepped down the step on the lectern and became even shorter. He’s a Ricard’s Villeman, alright, thought Ando, listening carefully, perhaps from the Mountainsprings. “Before I ask what you already know about alchemy, for the purposes of grading I must find out who is here today.” Perryson took a paper from the lectern and adjusted his glasses. “Alphabetically.

            “Ando.”

            “Here,” said Ando, caught off-guard.