Ravencourt Sanctuary

Miles from the Raevan shore, a permanent blanket of fog called the Mistwall obscures the horizon. This is the first line of defense of the island that holds the Ravencourt Sanctuary. Little is known of the Sanctuary itself, and the mages who return from it will not be drawn into discussing it. All that historians have gleaned is that the Sanctuary is an academy and haven for mages. Some mages have alluded, with a longing sigh, to its vast libraries filled with tomes and spellbooks, or its laboratories with all manner of instruments primed for magical experimentation. Then they catch themselves and fall silent once more.
Until now, none have been able to uncover the secrets of the Sanctuary. Yet every seven years, like clockwork, a boat comes through the Mistwall bearing those who have graduated from the academy. Invitations to others deemed worthy are given out as well, and the boat bears them away.
Those who, by accident or design, end up in the Mistwall without an invitation wind up hopelessly lost in the fog. If they linger within, they are soon beset by monstrous sea serpents. The sheer number of broken ships that wash up at the Dire Shore stands as a testament to the dangers of the Mistwall.

The Missing

She needed to know.
Marilde stood on the edge of the shore, with her eyes on the Mistwall miles out at sea. Yesterday, a boat had come through there, bearing home nine souls who had left Castalore for the Sanctuary seven years ago.
But there were originally ten who made the journey. Of that number, her Oglaf was the one who did not return.
She had begged each one to tell her what had happened to her son. Each one would shake his head and walk away. Truly, mages loved their secrets more than their friends and family.
So be it then. If they would not tell her, she would find out herself. Marilde pushed the boat into the sea and hauled herself in. Then she began to row towards the fog.
They told her this would not work. They said she was rowing to her death, that she would perish before even reaching the isle. But what mother could stand not knowing what had become of her child? What mother would not try?
So, she rowed, and after an hour, the Mistwall hovered before her.
The water rippled and Marilde gasped, turning her head. A massive serpent emerged from the sea, its gaze as green as the shallow sea. All breath left her lungs.
It did not roar; it made no sound. It simply looked at her.
Marilde dropped to her knees in the flat-bottom boat. She tasted salt on her lips but paid it no heed. Her gaze never strayed from the green eyes of the sea serpent. Their gazes remained locked together until some silent command drew the monster back into the deep.
When the City Watch came for her in their own rowboats, they found Marilde curled inside her own vessel, clutching her head, whispering her son’s name.

Type

College / Academy