The day I got my directions to the Thornmouth guildhouse, I threw my most magiqal items into a waterproof pack and raced to the nearest port, hoping to find a captain willing to ferry me to the mysterious lighthouse. It took some doing, but eventually I set off, a sea breeze tangling my hair and excited trepidation tangling my thoughts. It took the better part of twenty-four hours before the lighthouse came into view, a towering peak that promised warmth, safety, and above all the knowledge I had been seeking. I thanked the captain, paid her well and leapt onto the rocky shore.
I didn’t scramble up the stony path straight away - for a while I just stood there, staring at the light, my stomach clenching with anxiety. What if it wasn’t all I dreamed it would be? What if I would be an outcast among these people, these scholars of magiq? The wind picked up and the sea sprayed my back, almost pushing me toward the door. I squared my shoulders and stepped forward.
I soon saw that my fears were unfounded - my fellow Thornmouths were welcoming, not hesitating to point me toward a vacant dormitory and a fire to dry my sea-soaked clothes and hair. I unpacked my bag, placing the motley crew of books and notepad, all covered in sigils, on a shelf next to the bed in my ocean-view room. I changed into my other set of clothes and hung the others near the fire, before smiling out the window at the roiling ocean and heading off to seek a friendly face to point me to the library, where my research into magiq could at last properly begin.