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Chapter 2

  The streets of the village were already bustling, despite there being more than two hours to go until the Assessments began. But every young man and woman of the right age was gathered, waiting nervously for the event. And their families were there to show their support and to cheer the eventual reveal. Waiting around for it all to begin was boring, so naturally, the tavern was packed.

  ? Sam leaned against the wall near the door, having just given up his seat for an elderly couple and their grandson who would be attending the assessment. He didn’t particularly mind having to stand–being raised on the farm had given him excellent stamina–but he did wonder how he was going to eat his lunch when it left the kitchen. Every table was occupied by the young folks ready to discover their elemental affinity and magical potential, and their family members. The tavern on the other side of the village would be the same, he thought. Not that he’d choose to go there.

  ? “Gave up your seat again?” Sera’s exasperated voice reached his ears before he could properly make her out amongst the crowd. She was of average height–placing her several heads below Sam–and had long, silky brown hair that was braided down her shoulder, the end tucked behind her apron to keep it out of the way. Her brown eyes, a shade he’d always associated with the perfect cup of coffee, twinkled with humor even as she feigned annoyance at him giving away his chair yet again.

  ? Shifting the platter she carried to her right hand, Sera reached out with her left to grab his, and started pulling him through the crowd and in the direction of the kitchen. She wove through the tight cluster of tables with amazing grace, the drink on the platter never so much as spilling a drop. Even as patrons threw up their arms in laughter or moved to get out of their chairs, she avoided each hazard with a skill borne of long experience, though Samuel thought some of it had to be natural talent.

  ? That was the crux of the problem, at least for him, he thought. His two oldest friends seemed so natural in their chosen careers, even at such a young age. Sera moved through the busy taproom as if she’d been born there, and her easy charm and winning smile made her a favorite with the customers who came to visit. She’d barely been a year into the job when Thomas, the old bar master who ran the kitchen, surrendered his role of serving customers, abdicating completely to her domain.

  ? James was the same. Though an apprentice smith still in title, he’d been getting a lot of praise for his work recently, and even his father, Dean, a famously stubborn man known across the village for his tendency to never smile, would talk of how gifted the boy was with the forge. He already had customers as far as the end of Haven Inlet clamoring about the quality of the steel he forged.

  ? But Sam had never been more than a farmhand and knew nothing else about the world. He’d done a trifling amount of research into magic and was probably the best mage in Harbard’s Reach, but he’d had no formal training. There was an insurmountable gap between reading a few old tomes on the earliest forms of magic and being recognized for any level of talent. If he wanted to make something of himself in that field and gain the same kind of recognition as his friends, he had to get proper training.?

  ? “Here. You can eat at the staff table,” Sera said, dragging him out of his mind. She noticed that his mind had wandered and rolled her eyes, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Really, Sam. Daydreaming about magic while a beautiful girl is holding your hand? Where is your sense of chivalry?”

  ? Her comment rose a flush in his face, but he wasn’t about to take that teasing so easily. “Probably because I’ve seen that beautiful girl smash a chair to splinters against a grown man’s back in a fit of rage. Kind of cuts down on the awe.”

  ? “Aww, are you scared of me?”

  ? “Who wouldn’t be?” He asked, sinking gratefully onto the worn bench to the side of the kitchen. The noise of the taproom was still evident even in here, but at least it felt more isolated. Sera placed the platter down on the table, then slid a plate full of food in front of him, followed by a steaming mug of coffee. He breathed in the smell of the beverage, sure that it had come from a fresh pot. Just a splash of milk, and plenty of sugar. Just as he liked it.

  ? “Only a fool,” Sera replied, completely seriously, though she ruined the effect with a wink. “Try the coffee!”

  ? Curious at her exuberance, he did as was suggested and took a careful sip of the scalding liquid. His eyebrows shot up in amazement. “That’s great! What did you do differently?”

  ? “I was perfect as always,” she snorted. “But Thomas got a deal on some beans from out of the village. Not that common stuff that Deceed grows. Proper coffee.”

  ? Sam shrugged. He didn’t particularly care where the coffee came from, just that he had a fresh cup to drink. He attacked his food next, doing his best to ignore the rising volume of the taproom just out of sight. Sera took the rare chance for a break and sat across from him, resting her chin on her clasped hands. “So. You nervous about the Assessment?”

  ? “Aren’t you?” He asked, deflecting.

  ? “Not at all. I’m sure I’ll have a water affinity. And I don’t dabble in magic nearly as much as you do. Even James is more interested in it than me, and he’s just going to be spending a summer or two at the Smith’s Institute in Magren.”

  ? Magren, Sam thought. James would thrive in the mountain city that produced so much of the nation’s ore and metal works. Legendary smiths claimed to have learned their craft at those forges. Even Dean remembered his time as an apprentice smith to one of the city’s masters fondly. Two years there, James would be a different person.

  ? “I’m not nervous about the Assessment,” Sam finally said. It was the truth, mostly. He was sure that he’d be given a fire affinity and that his arcane capabilities would be rated moderate to high. What really scared him was what lay beyond. He had to find a way to High Thael. He was meant to do something with his talents, he thought. And that meant he couldn’t live as a farmhand.

  ? An uproar in the taproom made Sera look around. Frowning slightly, she stepped off the stool and strode over to the door. “Wait just a moment.”

  ? The noise grew louder as Sera cracked the door, poking her head out to see what the commotion was. After a few seconds, she retreated, scoffing. “Just perfect. Idiots are going to make a mess.”

  ? “What happened?” Samuel asked around a mouthful of hot soup, looking up.

  ? “Apparently, the Assessor decided to have his lunch here. Some elven man. The Mage Guard is pushing people around to make space for him.”

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  ? Curious now himself, Sam pushed his bench back and walked over to the door, pushing it open an inch or two. The taproom was full of mostly standing figures, and near the door, there was indeed an elf in dark blue robes. He was scanning the taproom with a deliberate eye, while several armed figures were pushing away the people closest, trying to make a respectful amount of space for their boss.

  ? “He wanted space, and decided to visit the busiest tavern in the entire village?” Sam asked, amazed. “Is he sheltered, or just stupid?”

  ? He’d pitched his voice low to ensure it didn’t carry far, but somehow, it was as if the stranger had heard him. The head turned, and piercing blue eyes met Samuel’s, leveling an undeniable threat. The elven man had silvery-white hair long enough to reach his shoulders, though it was currently bound at the back in a simple ponytail. His skin was tanned by years under the sun, and his jawline was sharp. He was rather bulky for an elf, though still thin, with an obvious whipcord strength about him. Very atypical for a mage, Sam thought.

  ? “He looks important,” Sera said at his shoulder, peering around him to steal another glance at the scene.

  ? “Well, if he’s an elf, he’s probably from High Thael,” Sam replied. The assessor’s eyes were still watching him steadily. Feeling more than a little nervous, Sam withdrew his head. In spite of the door blocking his line of sight, he still fancied that he could feel the man’s eyes fixed on him. “Let them be. I doubt any of the villagers are stupid enough to pick a fight with him.”

  ? Sera frowned for a moment, considering it, then shrugged. “Well, as long as a brawl doesn’t break out, that’s okay. I’d hate to see any of our regulars thrown in jail or worse.”

  ? Maybe she really didn’t care about the Assessment, Sam thought. She seemed to have more concern over the events happening *inside* the tavern, rather than what might be coming later that day. He was about to return to his food and try to put the matter from his mind as well, when the door opened yet again, this time pushing into the kitchen.

  ? “I’m terribly sorry for intruding,” a deep, smooth voice said. “I can’t seem to find any available seating in your taproom, but I have little time left to me for a meal.”

  ? Sam and Sera both stared, aghast, at the stranger standing in their kitchen, his head lowered in a respectful bow. It was the elven man, Sam noticed–The Assessor. His eyes flicked sideways to take in Sam once again, then returned to Sera, before he faced Thomas. With a jingling noise, he held out a small pouch of coins. “I promise I will be no trouble. And, of course, I will pay.”

  ? Thomas, a man with years of experience running a tavern and dealing with interesting characters, was the first to react. “O-Of course, Master Assessor! Please, sit at our staff table! If that’s not to your liking, we can easily clear away-”

  ? “This will do just fine,” the Assessor replied, cutting Thomas off. He placed the coin into the man’s hand and sat smoothly across from Sam at the short staff table. Sam noticed the sword at his waist that he hadn’t seen before. The scabbard was a dark wood trimmed in gold, and the handle bore the same golden shine. He wondered what it looked like when it was unsheathed.

  ? “Ah, but I would prefer if you simply called me Lucian,” he continued, raising a hand in polite refusal when Thomas moved to give him change out of his payment. “This far from High Thael, I find that formalities and titles just get in the way.”

  ? Sam caught Sera’s wide eyes–she was staring at him over Lucian’s shoulders, worry evident. He jerked his head to one side, telling her he was fine. She dithered on the spot a moment longer, but Thomas was the next to speak, sounding a little breathless. “Go in the taproom now, Sera. I’ll attend to our guest here.”

  ? “Master Peran!” One of the guards had appeared in the doorway. “We may have a spot for you-”

  ? “I will be fine here,” Lucian replied quickly. He seemed to make a habit of cutting people off mid-sentence, Sam thought. “Return to the town square and finish the preparations.”

  ? “But, Master Peran, we are tasked with your safety! We must stay nearby-”

  ? “Do you honestly believe there is a single person in this tavern who could pose a legitimate risk to my safety?” Lucian asked, his brow drawing lower in a glare. “Do you think so little of me as to see me being at risk here?”

  ? The guard seemed suitably chastened and hurriedly withdrew with a yelp of assent. “No, Master Peran! Please, enjoy your meal. We will be waiting in the square!”

  ? Sam couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter at the guard’s reaction. He liked the way the stranger had dealt with them. Mage Guard were known for their high-strung manners and dedication to the most strict discipline. As Lucian Peran turned to him with a raised brow, he hurriedly lowered his face to his soup, hoping not to be drawn in any further.

  ? “Lucian Peran,” the man said, extending a hand. “I’m a Master of High Thael, but more importantly, I’m the Assessor for Harbard’s Reach this year.”

  ? Sam reluctantly took the proffered hand, shaking it. He was surprised to feel tough skin and hard calluses. *Very* odd for a mage. He’d intended to offer his name in return, but what actually came out of his mouth was, “Why do you have a sword?”

  ? The man didn’t sigh out loud, but his shoulders did slump slightly. “A common question, I assure you. And not a very interesting one. There is more to magic than simply muttering fancy words and pointing to make fire.”

  ? “I know that,” Sam said, feeling a little heated. He wasn’t sure if it was his embarrassment at asking such a stupid question, or his desire to defend his intelligence, but he didn’t shut up–as would probably be wise. Instead, he pushed on. “I mean, why is it so full of mana? That’s not normal for a weapon, right?”

  ? The frown on Lucian’s face deepened, but the previous sign of exasperation had vanished. He looked distinctly interested now and regarded Sam with undisguised interest. “Now *that* is a far more interesting question. What is your name, boy?”

  ? “S-Samuel Bragg,” He replied, his previous indignation shrinking under the man’s focused gaze. “I… prefer Sam.”

  ? “Well, Sam, I’m surprised you noticed. My mana is very subtle, and no mage of your age has caught onto that fact just yet. And I’ve been performing these Assessments for just under four months now, traveling all along the coast.”

  ? Sam felt his heart skip a beat. Pleased at the praise, he sat up a little straighter. He still wasn’t sure what to say to the stranger, and felt distinctly out of place in front of him, but at least the menacing aura he’d held before was gone now. Maybe he could take this chance to learn a little about High Thael, he thought. Find a way he could get there and make his enrollment at the Academy easier.

  ? “I already know a bit of magic,” he said eagerly, hoping to impress the man with what studying he’d managed so far. “Just the other day, I used an enhancement spell with my mana, reinforcing our splitting maul to cut through this really knotted log.”

  ? That, more than the observation of his sword, seemed to grab Peran’s attention. “Really? And how well did that work?”

  ? “Ah,” Sam looked down suddenly, remembering the ending of that experiment. “The… ax handle shattered, unfortunately.”

  ? Peran didn’t seem to share his disappointment at the revelation, nor did he seem surprised. “Yes, well. Untreated material tends to have that effect when suffused with mana. Still, that’s an interesting experiment for one your age. Tell me. What other uses have you found for your magic? And not just arcane. If you use your Ki or Aura in any unique ways, I’d love to hear about it.”

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