Recovered Transmission 001 - The Blood Well

Recovered from an abandoned collaborative archive dating back to the early transmission years of the 2000s, The Blood Well is one of the oldest surviving fragments within the Dead Signal Archive. Written before the fractures, before the manifestos, before the systems began visibly decaying, it captures something quieter: the mythology of escape.

Set in a world where magic is carved from flesh and drawn through blood, the story follows Gaius, a young hedge mage standing unknowingly at the edge of transformation. What begins as a traditional fantasy narrative slowly reveals the obsessions that would later echo throughout much of the Archive’s recovered works: inherited systems, sacrifice mistaken for duty, the machinery of power, and the cost of becoming useful to institutions larger than oneself.

Unlike many later transmissions found within the Archive, The Blood Well still carries traces of optimism. The roads are open. Friendships are intact. The future has not yet collapsed under the weight of history. But even here, beneath the forests and rivers and merchant roads, the scars are already visible.

BEGIN TRANSMISSION:



Gaius sat quietly listening to the rushing water around him at the edge of the river. Being just inside the forest, he could see the bridge leading north out of Jorrah's lands along the Great Merchant's Road leading north to the rest of the kingdom of Kahari. Sitting beside him was an animal skin pouch full of herbs he had spent the better part of the morning acquiring, all easily found without wandering too far into the woods. His long black hair blew gently in the breeze as his cold blue eyes calmly took in his surroundings. Gaius took a small piece of bread out of a pouch around his waist and began to nibble on it when he felt something poke into the small of his back.

“You know,” said a female voice, “if I were a bandit you'd be dead right now.”

Gaius shrugged and continued eating, “If you were a bandit, Lucy, you'd be sorely disappointed to find me without much of worth on my person.”

Lucy sheathed her silvery longsword and sat next to Gaius by the river. “I can't believe you didn't hear me sneaking up on you1 You are completely unaware when it comes to safety outside the walls of grandfather's keep.”

“I come out here all the time by myself fetching herbs and materials for Norrik, and not once have I encountered any hostile bandits. I hardly ever see travelers on the road. People keep to their fields and the keep, so I feel fairly safe out here by myself. Remember, Lucy, I don't live in the keep anymore I live with Norrik,” Gaius said as he finished his bread.

“I hear stories of bandits attacking caravans to and from the north around grandfather's table. To think I'll be traveling those roads myself soon! And to be going for training as a royal knight in the capital!” Lucy paused, then abruptly stood up, “But enough of this talk, let's go hunt us a stag for dinner!”

Gaius closed his eyes, trying to force the knowledge of losing Lucy to the army coming up so soon. He quickly collected his thoughts and protested Lucy's request, “I have chores to do, and Norrik will be furious if I'm not back soon.”

“Let that old hedge mage wait, just tell him it took you longer to find the herbs than usual. Come on, it's a beautiful day for a hunt,” Lucy pleaded.

“Alright, but let's make this quick, I don't want to get back too late.”

“Oh, so you're going to cheat and use magic instead of practical hunting skills...” Lucy chided.

“Are you saying that my magical skills aren't practical? It'll take me a few minutes to find a stag trail, and a few more to hunt it down. Half an hour, tops. Compare that with your day-long romp in the woods that may or may not lead to a kill,” Gaius countered.

Lucy stretched and yawned, then tied back her waist length blond hair. “Fine,” she conceded then shot Gaius a sharp glance with her dazzling green eyes, “but only because I'm hungry.”

Gaius stood up and put the bag of collected herbs across his back. Then he picked at a scab on his left hand's first finger's knuckle until it began to bleed a few droplets of blood. “This part always is so vulgar,” Lucy said, “it isn't like the Blood Wells that the mages from Kahari use. They just have a little circle open all the time that doesn't close on their hand to cast their magic.”

“Well I'm not trained in their schools. I've been apprenticed to a hedge mage and this is how it's done. It isn't my fault that magic flows from the blood itself. Now be quiet while I finish my spell.” Gauis drew a drop of blood onto the tip of his right finger and began tracing his spell in the air. Soon he could see waves of silvery smoky movement from the area, trails of life energy left by passing animals. “Ok, I can see animal trails now, let's get moving.”

After a few minutes of walking through the woods, Gaius found a large silvery trail and increased the pace. Shortly they came to a small clearing where a stag was eating some grass. “Your kill or mine?” whispered Gaius.

“You led us here, you may as well finish it off as well,” Lucy whispered back.

Gaius nodded once then squeezed the area he had previously opened on his knuckle until a tiny droplet of blood came to the surface. He squeezed the drop of blood between his thumb and finger on his right hand and pulled back channeling the magic, using his left hand to direct the spell. He could feel the sudden swell of magic being pooled in the drop of blood, and began whispering mystical words to form the magic into a killing spell. He released his fingers and a thin red bolt shot straight into the stag's heart. The creature fell dead with half chewed grass still in its mouth.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Lucy. She ran over to the dead creature and inspected the wound. “And not even an arrow to pull out and ruin meat.” Lucy adjusted the bow slung over her shoulder and the sword at her waist then hefted the stag over her shoulders. “Now let's get back to the keep and have ourselves a feast!”

“I can't, I have to get back to Norrik. I'm going to be late as it is,” Gaius said.

“I see, and the direct command of the baron's granddaughter won't change your mind?” Lucy asked smiling.

“You may be the best swordsman in town, but Norrik could turn me into a toad. How about later tonight we meet at the tavern?” Gaius asked.

“I guess, but you're going to miss out on eating your own kill.”

“I'm sure you won't let it go to waste, Lucy.”

Gaius waved goodbye and Lucy headed off towards the castle within the keep while Gaius began making his way to Norrik's cottage at the edge of the woods to the west of the keep.

*

“Gaius, you're late,” muttered Norrik as he watched beakers bubble in front of him and mixed something within a wooden bowl. He had a long white beard and a rickety old body that loosely fell around his frame. His left hand was a battlefield of scabs and scars of various sizes and shapes. Several looked as though they had been opened recently. Norrik looked to Gaius's hand as soon as the young man entered. “I see you've been casting spells,” he grumbled.

“Yes, ah, well, you see Norrik...” Gaius mumbled.

“I'd wager it has something to do with young Lucille... that girl is always getting you into trouble.”

“It was nothing like that. We just went hunting for a bit, that's all.” Gaius laid the bag of herbs on the table and Norrik set down his mixing bowl.

“At least you brought back the herbs I need,” Norrik said.

“For baron Jorrah again?” Gaius asked.

Norrik's face grew sad and even his wrinkles seemed to frown, “I'm afraid so. I feel he is not long for this world. The wasting disease has almost run it's course. I've never seen someone succumb to the illness so fast. Normally it takes a slow decline lasting for several years, but the baron has been in such rapid decline over these past four months. There is little even a master of magic could do for him but ease his pain.”

Gaius sighed. He'd always liked the old baron, he had been like a grandfather to him when he was a child. Gaius and Lucille had been close since a young age and the baron's family welcomed him in as one of their own when he was orphaned. He was even trained in the ways of the sword, until he went to live with Norrik on his eleventh birthday because of the magic in his blood. “Lucy must be terrified. She is supposed to go north to Kahari to join the royal knights there. To have to deal with this and be leaving at the end of summer.”

“Which brings me to a more uplifting topic, Gaius. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. You will also be leaving at the end of this summer with Lucy for Kahari.”

“What? Why? What am I supposed to do there?” asked Gaius.

“Jorrah has paid your way into the mage school there. You will be trained as a proper mage starting this fall.”

Gaius paused for a moment then asked, “Don't mages usually start at 16? I'm 17 already, I'll be a year behind!”

“I see you've thought of this before,” Norrik commented.

Gaius looked down, “Yes, I always wondered. But when last summer came and went without me being sent off, I thought I was going to just be the baron's new hedge mage.”

“It is doubtful that you'll be behind my gifted apprentice, if that is your worry” chuckled Norrik, “from what I understand you'll be far ahead. You may not know all of the philosophy and whatnot, but you'll be far ahead of them when it comes to actually using magic. I've done nothing but teach you application, they'll fill your head with some nonsense now about how magic is some sort of mystical art form. Bah. Magic is just a tool, a means to an end.”

“How will I get there?” Gaius asked.

“You'll be taking the same tax caravan as Lucille.”

“But...” Gaius stopped, “why would Duke Jorrah do this for me?”

“Your father was a knight, Gaius. You know this. He died saving the baron's only son, Lucille's father, in battle. Then your mother died giving birth to you weeks later. Jorrah would not leave someone so noble of birth as you without some assistance. Had you not been born with spell blood you would have continued training with Lucille and her cousins as a knight. I doubt you would perform as well as she does, however, but she is exceptional in her swordplay. Regardless, you were born to be a mage and were sent to me at an early age for training. He didn't send you last year because he hoped you and Lucille could continue your friendship in Kahari while you are both training,” Norrik said.

“It's such an act of generosity, I just assumed I would become a hedge mage like you,” Gaius remarked.

“'Become a hedge mage,' my boy you are already a hedge mage! You may not know the ways of the land as I do, or how to mix herbs and brew potions as well as I, but you are nearly my equal in magical capabilities. I fear there was little that I have taught you this past year you've been here with me. You've been an apt pupil, and I'm sure you'll fare far better at the Kahari Mage's Guild than any other new students that they've had in quite some time. After all, for most of them opening their blood well is their first experience with magic. And won't you be happy your hand won't end up looking like this,” Norrik smiled as he held up his scarred and scabbed old hand and made a fist. Cracks appeared in several of the scabs showing vibrant red blood. He relaxed his hand and continued, “To be honest, Gaius, I'm going to miss you.”

“I'll miss you too, Norrik,” Gaius replied.

“Now I'll have to fetch my own herbs again,” Norrik said and they both laughed.

*

Lucy came rolling into the castles kitchen and threw down her stag on a large wooden table in the center of the room. Pots and pans hung from hooks around the room and several women were busy preparing food over stoves and in the fireplace. They all looked aghast as Lucy pulled out her hunting knife and began skinning the animal.

Finally one of the older cooks spoke up. She was a large woman with graying hair. She said, “Your ladyship should not be doing such tasks, we can handle cleaning the beast for dinner. It isn't proper for someone of your birth, a young lady no less, to be working with a dead animal.”

Lucy looked up at the cook, her right hand covered in gore, “Are you telling me that you actually want to cut this thing open, pull out all of its guts?”

“It isn't a matter of want, it is a matter of duty. This is our purpose here in the castle. What do you think your father would do to us if he caught you here doing this while the rest of us were here?” pleaded the cook with her arms waving frantically.

“He'd probably be upset,” Lucy conceded.  She sheathed her knife and stepped back from the table. “Very well, just make sure it's ready for dinner.” Lucy left the kitchen and made her way through the castle heading to her grandfather's chambers.

Various servants and knights bowed in respect to her as she passed them in the halls. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at a tapestry of her family crest, A brown wolf's head in the foreground with two swords crossed behind it. Lucy smiled and continued up the stairs.

Finally she reached her grandfather's room. Sitting in a chair outside was a boy a few years younger than Lucy in a pages' uniform, dutifully waiting to carry any messages the baron may have to their destination. He was staring out the window watching clouds as Lucy approached. When he looked over and saw her, he immediately jumped up and bowed, almost falling to the ground in the process.

“Your ladyship,” he said.

“You can go back to day dreaming, I'm just here to see my grandfather,” she said.

The page nodded and retook his position on the chair.

Lucy pushed open the large wooden door and crept in. “Who's there?” snarled an old man laying on an ornate covered four poster bed. He was wearing regal robes with a long white beard draped down his chest. He wore an expression of extreme agitation like a dog who's been interupted from chewing on bone favorite bone. The room was large and held paintings of battle and a wall with dozens of swords, all of a different make, hanging from iron hooks, begging to be handled once more.

“It's me, grandfather,” said Lucy.

Immediately his face went from one of anger to elation, “Come in, come in! Why, is that blood you have on you? What have you done?” baron Jorrah asked.

“I was just skinning a stag in the kitchen that Gaius killed for me earlier this afternoon, that's all,” Lucy explained as she took a seat next to her grandfather's bed next to a table full of concoctions that Norrik had been giving to the baron for his illness.

“You're quite fond of that boy, aren't you Lucille?” Jorrah asked.

“I've known him my whole life, you know that. He's like one of my brothers. After you, I think I might miss him most when I go to Kahari to join the royal knights,” Lucy said.

The old baron smiled, “This is what I suspected. So I've arranged for Gaius to go with you to Kahari. He will attend the Karari Mage School while you are in the military academy. I've paid for his admission myself.”

Lucy threw her arms around her grandfather and hugged him. “Thank you so much!” she whispered. “Have you told Gaius yet?”

“I asked Norrik to speak with him today. Norrik tells me he has made much progress and that there is not much left for him to teach him. If he wishes, Norrik and I agree that Gaius may move back into the castle for the remainder of the summer,” Jorrah explained. “He also has a small inheritance that I've been keeping safe for him, which I will be giving him when he leaves along with his father's sword.”

“Maybe you could give him the sword now so I can get his swordsman skills back in practice before we leave, you know, in case there are bandits while we travel,” Lucy suggested.

“That seems reasonable enough, although I hardly think you need to worry about bandits. You'll have ten of my finest knights as well as a caravan full of travelers with you. You'll be perfectly safe, Lucille. Now,” he said as he made great pains to sit up, “let us work on your own sword skills, my most talented student. Today we shall work on your ability with the dwarven war blade.”

Lucy dutifully stood up and walked over to the wall, picking up the heavy blade with only one sharp end. She calmly walked to the center of the room, saluted her grandfather and got into fighting stance, waiting for him to call out instructions.

*

Prince Kieran stood patiently with his fellow initiates at the Karari Mage School's main grounds for the annual graduation ceremony. He was taller than most of his fellow initiates, and far more physically impressive thanks to training since birth for the role he was about to step into. His orange robes, signifying his status as a first year student, would soon be traded in for the Royal Armor of Ameth. Kieran had been looking forward to calling that legendary and enormously powerful set of armor his again. For the entire year he had been stuck having to go through the basics of magical training, and having had to forgo its wearing while he was training for the required robes. The entire year had been a waste of time, he'd been trained by his mother since an early age and was merely going through the motions in order to advance. 

What most annoyed him was that even with his substantial head start and advantages in using magic he was going to be third in line to pick for apprenticeship and the number two picking student had made clear his intentions early on of joining the Sacred Order of Radiant Knights, meaning Kieran would have to pick someone other than the head of the order to apprentice under for a year. It was insulting that he, third in line to the crown, would have to take a secondary position to someone merely born of a merchant. The only bright side was that he would not have to deal with the conflict of being apprenticed to Waldorf Kreg, head of the order and second in command of the armor after his father's weapons master, and outrank him in the military. Besides, the first year in the order was usually spent enchanting sigils  and runes onto armor and weapons, and Kieran was already the owner of some of the most magically potent equipment in the whole kingdom. He expected his apprenticeship to be more of a formality than an actual mentoring experience. After this ceremony he would be given his first military command.

Kieran stole a glance over at his family sitting in the royal family's section of the stands. His father was patiently listening to every word the current faculty member on stage was saying. His neatly trimmed beard showed the early signs of aging as several pronounced streaks of gray had crept into the royal facial hair. Atop his head rested the royal crown. It was solid gold, with a large emerald in the center and rubies running around the band.

Queen Layana sat next to the king, wearing the blue robes of water as she did every year at this ceremony signifying her position within the magical order. She wore glowing magical jewelry, with a large sapphire necklace around her neck studded with tiny diamonds. She was short, sitting just over shoulder height to the king.

Kieran's eldest brother, PRINCE ALPHA, was seated next to the king and discussing something with a royal page. Of the three princes, he looked most like his father, even having the same beard. He had the same plump physique, stemming from a life of low physical activity working with the bureaucracy of the kingdom.

PRINCE BETA, second in line to the throne, was drinking from a flask. His enormous nose dwarfed the rest of his face. He was shorter even than their mother, and jokes ran rampant in the capital of him being an imp created by his mother's magic.

The youngest prince turned his head back towards the stage and began listening again to the speaker. It was currently Vassintius Maynard, offering his speech as a final plea to convince students to join the Order of the Gray Robes. “It is a life of study and discipline, seeking to understand the very foundations of magic itself,” Vassintius said. He was a large man in both height and girth, wearing the traditional gray robes worn by one of his order. His robes had numerous sigils on it, shinning softly in silvery light. Like all of the masters, one giant sigil dominated the center of his chest. He was an old man, but still kept himself healthy. White hairs grew from his ears like stalks of wheat in very small fields. “We of the gray robes do not seek glory in the battlefield or monetary gains for our pursuits, but rather to expand the knowledge of magic for future generations of mages,” he paused and took a long look at the crowd of assembled students and sighed. Kieran could tell his heart was not in his message, the prince knew himself that none of the students were going to be picking the gray robes for the fourth year in a row. “Even if you choose not to follow the gray path, I hope you will take advantage of our libraries for our magic is often of use to all mages. Congratulations on reaching this milestone in your training. In just a year from now you will be full-fledged mages! Thank you,” he finished and stepped down from the podium.

As the crowd began to applaud Kieran surpressed a laugh, knowing that he may as well be a full fledged member of the Sacred Order of Radiant Knights. A member of that order usually spent their first year inscribing sigils into their armor and weapons, whereas he was already the owner of the Royal Armor of Ameth. Also, by right of birth he would out rank the majority of the military commanders, including the Radiant Knight he apprentices under. Kieran regained his composure quickly and applauded.

Now was the time for the students to choose their masters. The student who had scored highest in the academy, a brash and headstrong mage with a larger than average blood well from CITY who had seemed to have a natural affinity for destructive spells went first and proudly proclaimed, “I choose  Grand Master of the Red Robes, Ivan Cheslav.” The crowd applauded as the young mage walked up to Ivan.

Ivan was a short, well-built, brick wall of a man. At 29, he was the youngest of the  Grand Masters, yet was extremely powerful and gifted in his arts. His Blood Well was known far and wide to be the largest ever seen. He had thick black hair, contained by a red leather cord, and a bushy beard were almost out of place on a mage so enamored with the arts of fire.. He was fastidious in his appearance, though not vain, with his beard being his pride and joy. Most Fire Mages have little hair at all, an unfortunate side effect of their chosen arts, much less a mighty beard. He was wearing his red robes covered in sigils, rumors were he could rain fire from the sky for days on end if the need arose with the power he contained within his robes. The center sigil was known to be one for summoning a great being of fire, who Ivan reportedly did not have complete control over. He was smiling and chewing on his black long stem pipe, until. He held out his well-muscled arms, covered with scars and burns that told stories of his battles, containing the spellcloth red robes of fire to be presented to the new student.

The other masters just shook their heads, it was the third year in a row the top student went to Ivan for apprenticeship. Ivan pushed hard to get those students, promising them lives of excitement and thrills and powers of extreme destruction.

The student accepted his robes proudly then took his place next to his new master.

Next the second highest scoring pupil went. “I choose Commander of the Sacred Order of Radiant Knights, Waldorf Kreg,” he said and again the crowd gave applause.

Kieran thought he detected a sigh of relief from the old soldier. Waldorf has joined the knights and stayed with the royal military his entire career, eventually raising to the top of the Sacred Order of Radiant Knights. Though in his early forties, he was still a force to be reckoned with and had the wisdom of firsthand experience to back it up. It was well known that a year's apprenticeship under Waldorf was one giant recruitment for the military, almost certainly guaranteeing an officers position after the year of service was up.

The student walked up to Waldorf and was ceremonially passed a bright spellsteel long sword. The young acolyte took it and raised it high into the air, gaining further applause from the crowd, then walked to stand next to Waldorf and remain there for the remainder of the ceremony.

Finally it was prince Kieran's turn to choose. He stepped forward and proclaimed, “I choose Champion of the Sacred Order of Radiant Knights NAMEGOESHERE.” The young knight, only a few years older than Kieran himself, bowed as the prince walked towards him. The crowd roared with applause and rose to their feet. A royal servant ran forward with the Spellblade of Kings, the matching weapon for the Royal Armor of Ameth, and handed it to Kieran sheathed.

The prince held the sword in his hands for a moment, then turned to adress the crowd as was the custom of a royal member entering their apprenticeship. He took a deep breath and began, “My fellow citizens of Karari, today I take my place upon the Radiant Knights as is my duty. I take this honor and responsibility most seriously, and pledge my life to keeping our kingdom safe from all threats. For almost a thousand years has our kingdom thrived, since the end of the War of the Necroniods, and though many threats have arisen over the course of our history we have always conquered those threats and come out a stronger kingdom after. Today we enjoy peace and prosperity, but we must always be on guard and looking to the horizon for those who would threaten our way of life. From this day forward I promise to stand directly in front of any danger to Kahari and if I must give my life defending her people. For Kahari!” he cried.

“For Karahari!” shouted the crowd back in unison.

Kieran stood next to his new master and sighed. It was going to be a long year of paying lip service to this Radiant Knight while running his own command. He nodded and applauded as appropriate throughout the rest of the ceremony. As usual, the class split fairly evenly between the seven orders except for the Gray Robes, who had once again failed to receive any new apprentices.

*

Gaius made his way through Jorrah's castle, moving quickly towards Lucy's room. He was full of excitement at the prospect of travel, and to be traveling with Lucy made it an even grander affair. Gaius had never been outside the baron's lands in his entire life, and was now to be headed to the capital city for training as a proper mage. With his mind racing with thoughts, Gaius walked past Lucy's room. He spun around, backtracked a few steps then knocked on her door.

“Who is it?” came Lucy's voice.

“It's Gaius,” he said.

“Oh, Gaius, come on in!” she said.

The young mage entered the room and saw Lucy staring at herself in a dark blue evening gown in a full length mirror. She turned when he entered the room and threw her arms around him, “Grandfather told me that we're going to Kahari together! I'm so excited!”

Gaius stood speechless for a moment, basking in the beauty of Lucy. He collected his thoughts and said, “Yes, that's actually what I'm here to talk to you about. Norrik has given me the remainder of the summer to do with as I please, but suggested maybe I brush up on my swordsmanship,” Gaius produced a longsword from his side. “It was my father's. I figure I may as well learn how to use it properly.”

Lucy let go of Gaius and took the sword from his hand. “This is a great sword! It's of dwarven make, too. That means high quality and durability. They tend to make their weapons a little bit heavier than most smiths would, but their craftsmanship is unequaled. By the end of the summer I can have you trained better than any guard in the keep.” She handed the sword back to Gaius, then said, “Come on, join us for dinner. You killed the main course after all.”

“Are you sure I won't be intruding?” asked Gaius.

“Nonsense, Gaius, you are part of our family. I'm sure my father will be glad to see you and be eager to talk to you. Stop being so dramatic,” Lucy said and jabbed Gaius hard in the ribs.

He cluched his side, feeling the onset of a bruise and shook his head. “I'm not being dramatic, I'm trying to be proper. Your father is going to be the baron when Jorrah...” Gaius stopped as tears began to well up in Lucy's eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean...”

Lucy looked down for a moment, then wiped the tears from her eyes. “No, you're right. I know you weren't trying to be mean, you were just being honest. Now let's go eat. After our adventure in the forest I'm starved.”

“I'd hardly call us hunting a stag an adventure,” Gaius said.

“Think about it, Gaius, how often do people ever get to see magic? It's pretty rare you know. I get excited every time I see you do something new. If I had your blood I would be training to be a Radiant Knight instead of just the Royal Guard. Then I would be unstoppable.” Lucy smiled, then said, “Instead I'm just nearly unstoppable.”

The pair made their way through the castle to the main dinning hall. There, Lucy's family was assembled. Eldred, her father, sat at the head of the table. When he saw the pair enter the hall he stood up and addressed Gaius, “It's been too long since you've been around the castle, Gaius. Are you joining us for dinner?”

“If that's all right,” Gaius said.

“It's perfectly fine. We've also made arrangements for you to have a room here as well. We're actually rather pleased Jorrah has arranged for you to join Lucy in the capital. We think you are a good influence on her,” Eldred said.

“Father...” Lucy began.

“What? You know that we don't approve of you roaming the lands alone. It's not proper for a young lady to be acting in such a manner.”

“I may be a 'young lady'” Lucy said with heavy emphasis, “but I can take care of myself. You know there's not a soldier under grandfather's command that can stand against me. I'd be willing to take on any three of them. I'm going off to join the Royal Guard. The Royal Guard is the most used military force in the land. If you think these lands are unsafe I can't imagine how worried you'll be once I am fully a member of the Royal Guard.”

“We will be very concerned,” said Lucidia, Lucy's mother. She was a beautiful woman, with long braided blond hair running down the length of her back. “Let us not spend what precious little time we have left arguing, my dear. Can we not simply have a family meal without you and your father constantly arguing?”

Gaius stood beside Lucy silently wishing he was still in Norrik's cottage having a simple meal with quiet conversation. He had no idea that Lucy and her father had been having such arguments, she'd never mentioned anything about it to him before. Now he was stuck feeling like an intruder into the private disputes of Lucy and her family. He could see her father's perspective for it was quite unusual, though not unheard of, for a woman to join the Royal Guard. 

Fortunately, Lucy responded quickly to end the discussion, “Fine, mother. I'll behave. You,” Lucy commanded to a servant bringing a platter of potatoes for the enormous table, “bring another chair for Gaius.” The servant rushed off and returned momentarily with a chair. Lucy directed the servant to squeeze the chair in next to her seat.

Once everyone was seated the meal began. Lucy's three older brothers, all members of the keep's guard, ate voraciously. Still wearing their armor, they made jokes about Lucy being the first member of the family since Jorrah to join the Royal Guard. Her father remained silent on the subject, but after some time finally said to Gaius, “So what order have you decided to go into when you get to the Mage School?”

“Oh, I haven't made up my mind yet,” Gaius said, quickly swallowing the stag he was chewing. “My understanding is that I won't have to actually choose my path until after my first year as an acolyte. After that I get to choose someone to apprentice under, but I haven't thought that far ahead. I only found out today that I was going to Kahari, after all, so I guess I just haven't had enough time to let the whole thing sink in.”

“Then let me offer you some advice,” Eldred said, “join the Sacred Order of Radiant Knights. With the training you received as a child and some hard work before you go with the sword you would be well prepared for their ranks. There is no higher rank of military honor, save the title of Grand Marshal to the king such as was the case with Jorrah. But Grand Marshal is a rank only achievable by those without spell blood. I knew your father well, Gaius, and I know if he were here today he would be telling you the same thing.”

“I will keep that in mind, but I am not sure I want to spend the rest of my life fighting,” Gaius offered and Eldred frowned. “I don't have a thirst for battle or conquest. Up until today I thought my station in life was to merely serve this barony as Norrik had, and I was content with that. Now, though, to have so many options open to me is a little overwhelming. I plan to start my training in Kahari with an open mind and see which order most suits my personality. Right now, though, I would have to say I am leaning towards the white robes of air. The thought of flying high in the skies appeals to me.”

“No matter what you choose, Gaius,” said Lucidia, “we will be proud of you. You've been like another son to us, and all we really want is for you to be happy.”

“Yeah,” said one of Lucy's brothers as he tore into another piece of meat, “we're all expecting big thing from you so no matter what you choose you better not let us down. Jorrah's honor is at stake in that he is sponsoring you in the mage school and paying your way through, so don't forget where you come from.”

Eldred smiled wryly, and Gaius could tell he was pleased with his son's response. “I won't forget Jorrah's act of generosity,” Gaius said, “nor will I forget to honor the family that has taken care of me for so many years.” Gaius hoped the answer would be enough to settle the argument and end the discussion.

Lucy, however, didn't seem ready to give up on the topic, “I don't think we should be telling Gaius what to do. Besides, we don't even know how big his blood well is going to be. If it's really small being a Radiant Knight might be more advantageous, but if it's big then it might be more worthwhile for him to follow one of the other orders. Imagine if he joined the blue robes of water and came back here and served this barony. To no longer have to fear droughts, to be able to control the rain, he would be a valuable asset to our lands.”

Eldred paused to consider his daughter's statement for a moment, then responded, “Perhaps, but what good are well watered crops if you don't have the strength to defend them? You should join the Radiant Knights, Gaius. I'm sure you'll come to see it is what is best for you.”

“Yes sir,” said Gaius. Then, quickly changing the topic, “So we'll be traveling with the tax caravan to Kahari?”

“Indeed,” Eldred said, “You, Lucille, ten of our best knights and about twenty traders will be accompanying you north. There will be a few wagons full of trade goods and one containing our annual taxes for the king.”

“I think Gaius and I should simply travel alone. We'd get there so much faster without the wagons holding us back,” Lucy said.

“It is better to travel in groups,” Eldred said. “Two young travelers on the roads by themselves could face much danger.”

While Lucy clearly was looking for a more adventurous journey, Gaius was looking forward to a nice quiet journey to the capital.

*

Vassintius sat on the palatial balcony of the Gray Tower on the Kahari Mage School's grounds drinking red wine from a large glass. Tuna, his albino pet ferret, sat cozily on his stomach as Vassintius absentmindedly stroked his fur. The day had been yet another embarrassment to the head of the order and he was trying his best to simply drink his problems away, if for ever so briefly. Suddenly, the breeze picked up and Tuna perked his head up.

Gliding gently on a breeze flying to the high balcony was Zavira Hylnn, head of the white robes of air. She was beyond her prime, much like Vassintius, but she still held much of her ample good looks from her youth. She was dressed in tight fitting white silks and her hair, usually tied back in three tight braids, was blowing back from her face as she landed.

“I'm in no mood, Zavira,” Vassintinus said bluntly.

“I take it you are upset you didn't receive an apprentice,” she said.

“Four years in a row! I'm one of the most powerful mages in all of the kingdom and for four years in a row not a single student has thought that I might have something to pass on to them! It is unheard of,” Vassintius stood up, forcing Tuna to go scurrying for safety. “All these new students want are flash and flair, money and prestige, none of them have any sense at all about dedication to the art of magic itself. It never ceases to amaze me how little the rest of the schools even take advantage of our available spells and sigils, considering our defensive magic is by far the most superior!”

Zavira rolled her eyes, “I didn't come here for an argument on who's magic is superior, Poofi, I came here to make sure you weren't too upset and maybe to have a drink.” She smiled and winked at Vassintius.

He blushed a little and said, “With talk like that you could make a man wonder if there isn't something a little deeper implied.” Vassintius touched his blood well then shaped a minor spell of telekinesis, silvery light moved from his fingers to a bottle of wine. The light lifted the bottle and poured it into a glass. After setting down the bottle the silvery light floated over to the glass, surrounded it and floated it to Zavira.

She smiled and took the glass. “Thank you, Poofi. But no, I'm not here to rekindle our romance, I am just making sure you aren't beating yourself up too badly. You have more new spells to your credit than anyone else currently teaching here at this time. The core of the faculty here know how important you and your research is.”

“It isn't that, it is more my concern for the survival of my order. There are less than twenty living Gray Robe mages. I fear our numbers are declining, and without some new infusion of members we may become a thing of the past,” Vassintius sighed. “And how can we compete with the likes of Ivan? He shoots off blasts of fire for any occasion, just to show off.”

“You did just levitate my glass to me,” Zavira said smiling.

“That's different, I'm showing off magic that I created.”

“I see,” Zavira said.

“So, how is your apprentice? Nestor was it?” Vassintius asked.

“Yes, Nestor. He's very enthusiastic. He wants to make maps, and wishes to fly over the land to make more accurate maps. His family is very powerful at court, and he has been catered to his entire life. Fortunately, I suppose, he is quite good at map making. His magical skills are somewhat lacking, but at least he's not another young man bound and determined to be the next great ship captain with their sails always blowing in the direction they wish to be traveling. I've had to deal with that mentality from both of my most recent apprentices,” Zavira paused to take a drink of the wine. “This is good vintage, where is it from?”

“TRADECITY, I have a private stock. If you'd like I can send a bottle over to your room.” Vassintius walked to the edge of the balcony and looked out upon Kahari, lit up beyond the walls of the school. It was still early in the night and much was still going on in a city the size of Kahari. “It really is for the best I suppose.”

“What is?” asked Zavira.

“That I don't have an apprentice. Any of my works would be far above their level of aptitude. King's sake, some of what I am researching seems to be beyond even me. Damnable telepathy...” he said and took a long drink from his glass.

“Telep-what?”

“Oh, telepathy. It is a new magic I am working with. It grants the caster the ability to talk into the mind of another person and then hear what they think in response, a way of talking without talking from long distances. It has promise,” Vassintius paused, “but so far there have been some minor side effects.”

“How minor?”

“It is extremely unsettling to receive the message to begin with, basically from out of nowhere you hear a voice in your head and have a sudden feeling of someone in your mind. I had been practicing it with a fellow Gray Robe Mage in PORTCITY when I got a series of messages from him begging me to stop and that he was no longer able to make words in reply and he felt like he was going mad hearing my voice inside of his mind.” Vassintius shrugged, then wandered over to the bottle of wine. After pouring himself another glass he said, “really I'm back to the drawing board on the matter, but I'm sure I'll come up with something. It isn't like the Maynard Rune for bows came about in a day, after all.”

“Poofi,” Zavira said, “you think too much. You should take some time off and travel. You've got months before the fall class begins. Go visit with some of your colleagues, I'm sure you'd have much to offer each other.”

“No,” Vassintius said, “my place is here with this school. Ours is to swear the oath to expand our knowledge of magic and then to pass it down for future generations to learn. I'm sure I will be quite productive for the remainder of the summer without any students here to bother me.”

Zavira moved close to Vassintius and gently placed her hand on the center of his chest, covering a giant glowing sigil on his robes. “Vassintius, what happened to the man I knew so long ago with a lust for life?”

“He was overtaken by age and overcome by wisdom to take far less risks.”

*

Kieran walked in front of the assembled squad of fifty soldiers, his first command, inspecting them. They were standing in the common area of the military section of the city. He could see in their eyes discontent. He'd heard rumors over the past two weeks since his becoming apprenticed under NAMEGOESHERE that the soldiers were not pleased with him being given the rank of second in command of the entire military force of Kahari. Standing before the young prince were the most elite soldiers, hardened by battle and resenting him for being given command over them simply as a rite of birth. 

Kieran, wearing the Armor of Ameth, was an imposing figure. The armor was made of spellsteel, and shone with numerous sigils placed there from previous owners. The armor was a piece of master craftsmanship, full plate mail that was weightless with long spikes on the pauldrons and gauntlets.

With the helm tucked under one arm, he knew this was going to be no easy task. All of his training told him that he needed the trust of his soldiers if he was to get the most out of them. NAMEGOESHERE was standing beside him and, while still his master in the arts of the Radiant Knights, was Kieran's subordinate in the military of which he was a part. Kieran had quickly decided to make him his second in command of his personal regiment.

Finally, Kieran began to speak, “My soldiers, today I take command of this regiment of the Royal Guard. You are the finest warriors in all the lands, and you commitment to Kahari is unquestioned. I know some of you doubt my qualifications to lead, and that others of you resent being taken away from Commander Kreg's force for this assignment. But I tell you, this is the most prestigious assignment you can achieve! You now directly serve a member of the royal family, and I promise you that I will not lead from the tents in camp while you risk your lives for our kingdom. I swear that I will be in the front lines with you, sharing in the dangers and the glories of combat. Our force is to be the first responders for all threats to Kahari, and we must live up to that duty without fear. You are the best of the best, and you should all feel honored to be in this regiment. I am open to hearing your concerns and worries, and encourage you to seek me out and discuss them in the appropriate setting in the hopes of creating a more cohesive force. Each of you matter to me, for without you Kahari would stand defenseless against her foes. For Kahari!”

“For Kahari!” chanted the regiment, although it was clearly less than enthusiastic.

“Dismissed!” shouted Kieran, and the soldiers headed back to their barracks. 

Once all of the soldiers were gone, NAMEGOESHERE said, “They don't trust you, sire.”

“I know,” Kieran said, “but they will learn to. Or they will be replaced by more loyal troops.”

“Again, my thanks at being named second in command of your force,” NAMEGOESHERE said, “it is truly an honor.”

“It only makes sense,” Kieran explained, “for the next year you are to train me in the ways of the Radiant Knights, but my royal duties require me to serve as a commander in the military. This way I have someone I can trust keeping an eye on my soldiers as well as another commander should I need to break off my regiment into smaller groups.”

“True, but there is hardly anything that I'll be teaching you. Usually the apprenticeship is spent enchanting armor and weapons, but you already have the most powerful magical armor and weapon in the lands. There is no sigil or rune I could teach you that would improve your prowess,” NAMEGOESHERE explained.

“I know,” Kieran replied, “and I trust you'll know your place in matters of command.”

“Yes sire,” NAMEGOESHERE said.

*

Baron Arliss Rostvelde sat on the throne of his barony in his audience chamber stroking his enormous red beard with one hand and with the other twisting his enchanted battleaxe into the stone floor making small slices in the surface. His face was missing an eye, an empty socket covered by a black patch. The other brown eye glared menacingly at the tall man standing in front of him. Slouching back in his throne the baron said, “I knew this plan of yours was going to get us caught! Now I hear from our spies in the capital that a royal envoy is to be sent here to investigate our tax records!”

“Master,” the man cleared his throat, “this is merely a show of force, they have no evidence. Your books will all add up to what we sent, and they will leave. They may have their suspicions, but by the time they are ready to respond to you, well, you will be king over these lands and they will be intruding upon your sovereign land...”

“Enough, Kresk!” shouted the baron, rising to his full height dwarfing Kresk and brought his face down to Kresk's face. “You came to me with this plan years ago, and I've followed it to the letter. You murder my father with your necromancy, I take his seat as baron of CITYINNORTH, then I bring my armies from the sea and declare myself free from the king. Now you have us contacting barbarian tribes in the region, goblins, mercenaries from the north, and other less reputable individuals. I see your plan of watching me fend off the kingdom's army and I see the wisdom of your strategies to hold them at bay and eventually fight to a stalemate with our northern borders fully open to trade with the merchant kings to the north beyond the MOUNTAING RANGE. What I don't see, and maybe this is because I have but one eye,” the baron smirked, “is what exactly you get out of all of this, ORC.” Arliss's hand shot like a dagger down to the hand of Kresk and quickly slid off a ring from his finger.

Immediately the forgettable looking man with short brown hair became a brown and gray scaled humanoid. It twisted it's face into a smile full of teeth like blades, and bowed it's muscled scaled body to the baron, short sharp talons tipping off each finger carefully kept away from the baron. “How long have you known?” Kresk rasped in a deep guttural voice.

“Since we first met. Did you truly think you were playing me as some sort of puppet all this time? I am the renown Arliss Rostvelde, Radiant Knight, pirate's bane. I have not survived so many years of combat and battle by being so foolish as to not know my most trusted advisers absolutely. My question is now that it's in the open what you really are, I could slay you here and turn you over to the king and claim the taxes were all your doing and that I'm outraged. Were I to do that it would certainly buy me the time I need to amass my army. You've laid all of the ground work out nicely for me. So what purpose is there in keeping you around?” The baron raised his axe and sigils flew to life on it.

Kresk stepped back, shook his head, and touched his hand to the blood well on his left hand. By the time Arliss was charged up Kresk calmly let loose a withering spell. Arliss immediately fell to the floor, all strength gone from his body. Kresk, still supernaturally calm for a ORC, walked up to the baron who laid sprawled out on the floor at the foot of his own throne. Kresk raised a single talon and brought it close to the baron's wide eye. The baron's breathing began to intensify. “Now, if I was the creature you make me out to be, useful only as a sacrificial piece on the game board of political strategy I'd take you're eye and leave this place.” He brought his talon within a hair's width of the baron's eye, then laughed a raspy chortle. “It is fortunate for you, Arliss, that I am not such a character.”

The ORC raised himself away from the baron's face and continued, “I can see the logic of your plan, of course. I would make the perfect offering to show that you were not behind the dependencies with your taxes. But that is very short sighted thinking, baron. That is not the kind of thinking that will make you a king, that's thinking like the brigand of the seas you were when I found you.

“You asked me what I get out of this arrangement? Let us just say that it furthers my ends to have a place where I can practice my arts more openly. And why you need me is when the armies of the king do finally come to try and unseat you from your throne my necranoids will be an invaluable asset to your battlefield. My advice has led you far, you should not lose faith in my services now.” Kresk bent down and dipped his talons into his blood well and whispered incantations then touched the baron in the center of his forehead.

Arliss's strength surged back into his body and he leapt back away from the ORC necromancer. He eyed Kresk without saying anything. Kresk continued, “Now that you've gained some respect for me and my powers, I hope we can continue to have a mutually beneficial relationship.”

The mighty baron thought hard about the situation he was in. Several times he eyed his battleaxe laying several feet away from him, closer to Kresk than the baron. Finally, the baron accepted the situation as one he would not be able to overcome through strength of arms and sat back in his throne. “Very well,” the baron smiled, “you may continue to serve me.”:

“That is all I ask. There are a few questions I would like for you to answer for me, however,” Kresk said.

“Ask then,” replied Arliss.

“How did you know that I was a ORC?” Kresk asked.

The baron sized the ORC up then finally said, “I have a magic eye patch that lets me see through magical spells into the true nature of what is in front of me. It was a valuable asset when examining ships belonging to smugglers. The first time you came to me in PORTCITY I saw you clearly as you stand before me now.”

“Interesting,” Kresk rasped, “but if you knew then why did you follow my plan?”

“It should be obvious to you by now. Regardless of the source, you offered me power. I always figured I would have to wait for my father to die, but when you came to me with your plan of using necromancy to give him the wasting disease I could hardly turn down my own barony. As you continued to lay out your plans for me gaining my own kingdom I went along with you because that is exactly what I was planning on doing anyway,” the baron paused and smiled wickedly. “All you did for me was advance my own personal ambitions. It seems the only mistake I feel I have made in our arrangement is not killing you once you had killed my father.”

“Had you attacked me then, there is a good chance I would have just killed you. You must now have some small measure of how powerful I am. Had I wanted to, I could have sucked the very life out of your body instead of simply weakening you,” Kresk said.

“It was my mistake to give you any warning. I should have left that magic ring on your hand and cut your head off instead,” Arliss growled.

“I'm sure we could both have done things differently. What is important now is what is before you. Thanks to your spies we know that a royal envoy will be sent, so we shall prepare for them. Remember, though, that you have loyal men attacking many of the tax caravans heading to Kahari so some baronies will not even be turning in taxes at all this year. Your shortcomings will look less suspicious. Besides, we even arranged for your caravan to be attacked to throw off suspicion. By tax time next year you will be king of these lands, and have an army loyal to you to fend off any advances. You hold the fortified position in this valley, therefore they cannot bring the full might of the army to bear against you. Now, if there is nothing further you wish to discuss I have duties to attend to.”

Kresk bent down to pick up his ring, and for a moment the baron eyed his blade and considered his chances. Concerned that he might very well be outmatched, he let out a disgusted grunt and said, “Be gone from my sight, ORC.”

The ORC slid the ring back onto his finger and his form shimmered for a moment then returned to the unassuming man with short brown hair. “That shouldn't be too hard, your lordship, what with you having one eye,” sarcasm dripping from his now human sounding voice. Kresk bowed and left the great hall.

*

Lucy's entire family was gathered at Jorrah's bed. Norrik had summoned them all, saying that Jorrah's time was short. Giaus was in the baron's room aiding Norrik with potions and minor spells to ease the baron's suffering. Lucy was sitting at Jorrah's bedside weeping profusely.

“Don't cry, my dear Lucille,” the baron rasped trying to comfort his granddaughter, “I am old and have led a full life. I am prepared to go to the halls of my ancestors, where the Ancients await us all at the end of our journey. I do not fear my death, and nor should you morn my passing.”

“How can I not cry at your dying, grandfather?” asked Lucy. “There is so much more I have to learn from you. You are leaving me just as I am starting my journey as a warrior. I only want to make you proud.”

“My dear, you've already made me proud. You're the finest student in the arts of the sword I've ever had. One day in the not too distant future I expect you to exceed even my own skills with the blade. I see you going far in the Royal Guard. You will be fine after I am gone, Lucille,” the baron coughed and a small amount of blood appeared on his lips. “Gaius,” the baron said.

Gaius stopped mixing a potion and walked to the side of the baron, “I am here your lordship.”

“I've watched you grow up, and have always tried to do what I thought was best for you. I wanted to prepare you for the rigors I knew you would be facing by having Norrik be stern with you in your training. Perhaps it was a mistake to not send you to the capital for training last year, but I couldn't bare to separate you and Lucille. I hope you can forgive my selfishness.”

“Father,” Eldred said, “you need not apologize to Gaius.”

The baron frowned and coughed up a few more drops of blood, “I will keep my own council on what I need to say at the end of my life. Gaius, my hope is that you become a fine mage in whatever order you choose. My personal wish is that...” the baron began coughing uncontrollably, then continued, “it is my wish that you decide to join the Sacred Order of Radiant Knights. However, this is a decision that must be made by you alone. You are a good and decent young man and I know that you'll do what is best for you. Please look after my dear Lucille, for she is still headstrong and rambunctious. I hope that you are a calming influence on her as she follows her own path.” The baron coughed again, then seemed to be fighting to continue speaking in a whisper, “Gaius, please look after her and protect her as best you can. Please...” the baron gasped, “honor this dying man's wish...” the baron used his remaining strength to lift Lucy's hand to his lips and kissed her on the back of the hand, then fell back motionless as one final gasp left his lungs.

*

Gaius stood silently outside of Lucy's room in the castle. He could hear her crying through the thick wooden door. They had just placed Jorrah in a crypt outside the town on a hill, overlooking the area. The ceremony was brief, and baron Eldred placed Jorrah's legendary sword in his father's hands personally at the service's end. Lucy had immediately fled to her room, and had refused all visitors. Finally, after several hours her mother asked Gaius to see if he could console her.

Gaius took one last deep inhale and knocked on the door. “Go away!” shouted Lucy.

He thought about just turning around and leaving for a moment, but Gaius's concern for Lucy's well being was stronger than his fear of her wrath. “Lucy, it's Gaius, can I come in?” There was a long pause then he heard a latch unlock from inside. The door creaked open a little, and Gaius pushed it open the rest of the way and entered the room.

The bedroom looked like a battle had raged inside. Clothes were strewn all over the room, a dresser had been overturned, and a dagger was sticking in the door. Lucy herself was sitting on her bed, not wearing the stately gown she had attended the funeral in but clothed in her light armor with sword sheathed at her side crying into her leather covered hands. “Lucy, I'm so sorry...”

“What do you want, Gaius?” she asked.

“Your mother asked me to check in on you. She said you refused to let anyone else in, and she thought that I might fare better in gaining entrance to your room,” he smiled, “she even said I could use magic to get in if need be.”

For a moment, Lucy started to smile, but then her head fell back into her hands and she went back to crying. “He's gone, Gaius. It's not fair! He was supposed to see me go on to succeed in the Royal Guard. And there was so much more that he had to teach me. What am I supposed to do now?”

Gaius put an arm around Lucy, “I really don't know what to tell you. I don't have some magic spell to take away the pain. And if I did, I'm not sure I would use it. You're going to lose a lot of people close to you, Lucy. You're going to become a soldier, and you are going to see many of your friends die in service of Kahari. Death is an inescapable part of life, the end result of all of our journeys. You must learn to come to terms with this, or you will be ruined in the army. Take solace in the fact that Jorrah lived a long life, and will be remembered for generations in stories and the histories for his part in the founding of this city and his time as high commander of the Kahari military. Now tell me, why are you wearing your armor and sword?”

“I was going to run away into the woods for a few days to get away from my family,” Lucy said.

“I see. And you think that is fair to them? You're not the only one who is hurting right now, Lucy. Your father just buried his own father, how do you think he is feeling? You can't just run away from this,” Gaius said.

“I just can't face them right now. I can feel the resentment from my brothers, jealous of the special attention I got from grandfather and the doors he opened up for me in joining the Royal Guard. They all have to stay here while I get to go off and lead a life of adventure. They hate me for it,” she said then added, “you just wouldn't understand, you don't have any siblings.”

Gaius took his arm away from around Lucy and pulled away. “You're right, the closest thing to a family I've had is your family and your brothers treated me as little more than a favored servant until I started my training with Norrik. Then they treated me with fear, afraid of what I might do to them magically. You think your brothers resent you? Imagine how they feel towards me.” Gaius stood up and walked over towards the window.  “We set out for Kahari in two weeks. Would you spend what little time you have left with your family hiding in your room crying or in the woods brooding? Who knows how long it will be before you see them again?”

Lucy stood up and walked over to Gaius. She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and for a moment Gaius thought of turning his head so that their lips would meet. He shook off the temptation knowing that it was not the appropriate moment for him to make his affections towards Lucy known. She kissed him gently on the cheek and said, “You're right, Gaius. I shouldn't waste what little time I have left with my family alone in the woods brooding over grandfather's passing.”

“You still want to continue my training with the sword today? You were pretty hard on me yesterday, after all,” Gaius said.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I think I was working out my frustrations on you. But yes, we should continue your training. First I'm going to go talk with mother, though. I'll meet you in the courtyard afterward, ok?” she asked.

Gaius shrugged his shoulders, “If it's what you want, then it is alright with me. I'll be waiting.” Gaius left the room and headed to the courtyard to wait for Lucy.

*

“Baron Rostvelde,” Prince Kieran said frowning and staring hard at the larger man sitting in his throne in his own throne room, “you expect me to believe that your taxes have fallen a full third a year since your father has passed away? As of two year's ago royal census your city's population has grown my a tenth! It is preposterous for you to tell me that you have less money for taxes!”

Arliss leapt to his feet, “Don't take that tone with me, princeling. I was fighting for these lands long before you could even wield a blade. I've shed blood and lost an eye for Kahari! You dare to come into my own home and accuse me a treason! If you'd simply bothered to let the royal accountants you brought with you finish their job, what you'll discover is that many of the merchant kings to the north beyond the pass have cut off ties with NORTHCITY when my father died. My father held together many treaties with the strength of personal connections within the city states that I do not have. In fact, I lost two of my best men from a bandit raid on my own tax caravan to the capital. Does the crown plan on reimbursing me for my losses in paying my taxes? My men told me they had to pay out of pocket at the Temple of PURPLEROBESTEMPLENAME for healing! They were doing the King's work and were forced to pay for services like commoners!” Arliss looked down at the prince, with his head turned so that his good eye had held the prince within the center of it's gaze.

“You should learn your place, baron. I'm prince of these lands, and hold the entire royal guard in my command. You should show more respect, or there could be consequences.” Kieran held the baron's gaze, but was tiring of this pointless charade. His father had suspected the baron for years, and was now sending Kieran to confront him on the issue. The royal accountants would probably find the baron's ledgers to show the situation to be exactly as the baron had claimed, but the prince knew they could be faked. He suspected this entire affair was an act on the charismatic baron's part.

“Prince, yes. Third in line to the throne, so not much chance of you ever even becoming king of Kahari. Just another minor royal member for the offical royal records. And commander of the Royal Guard? Ha! You're a joke and everyone knows it. You've not earned the title from battles, you've not the respect of your troops. You lead an army because they are commanded to follow you, not because they're inspired to fight for you. You're nothing more than a child playing at men's games. And even in being in command of the royal guard you are allowed to perform no actions without your father's consent, making you an impotent commander at best.”

The words cut deep, but Kieran was able to keep his calm through years of courtly training. He simply responded, “You'd better be right about the ledgers, Rostvelde, or I'll see your head on a pike in front of the main gates of Kahari City as a warning to the next traitor who'd steal from the king.” He turned and walked out of the room.

Once he got outside the baron's throne room he found Morgan waiting for him. “How'd it go?”

“He claims the reason for the reduction in taxes is from lost trade with the merchant kings, but he's hiding something. It doesn't make sense that he'd bee doing so much worse off and still be growing in population. Have the royal accountants began their work?” Kieran asked.

Morgan nodded, “They say that it will take at least two weeks. There are a lot more trade based taxes than anywhere except PORTCITY, which has it's own set of royal accountants working on their taxes year round. The only reason that was not instituted here was that the old baron Rostvelde's loyalty was unquestionable. You'd think a Radiant Knight like Arliss would be totally trustworthy.”

“Come, let us not speak of these things where there are ears and eyes everywhere. Let us adjourn to our rooms at the inn.”

The two made their way from Rostvelde's keep through the city to the inn. It was a bustling tcity, and at midday full of merchants and buyers crowding the streets. There was the ever present presence of the city guard, dressed in black leather armor wearing not the traditional insignia of house Rostvelde but the insignia Arliss had adopted from his time as a commander fighting pirates and brigands on the sea. Kieran was well aware that when Arliss took the barony after his father's death he had brought along hundreds of loyal soldiers from the mini fleet he had controlled. They had immediately replaced most of the city's guard once Arliss arrived. They dutifully saluted Kieran as he passed each group. Kieran wondered how sincere the salute was.

Finally the pair arrived at the Golden Feather, an inn that usually catered to wealthy merchants visiting the city. Arliss had arranged for the prince and Morgan to have two suites that covered the third floor of the inn with a connecting room between each suite. The two marched up the stairs and took seats in the middle room. “I feel like the guards are watching us rather closely,” Kieran remarked.

“It could be that the baron has put them on alert to make sure none of the local trouble makers cause us any problems,” Morgan said. “The baron may not be stealing from the king, highness. It could be that things are just as he says they are.”

“No, something is amiss in this city. My father sent one of his best men here last year to see what the baron is up to and he never returned. The baron is known to be a clever man, and from what reports said of his protecting the seas sounded more like he was almost as bad as the pirates. Nothing could ever be proved, but there were many rumors floating around court that he was charging shipping guilds protection money for when they sailed. I'm sure I saw a man following us from the keep to the inn, as well,” Kieran said.

“Then we should quietly go about our duty and head back to the capital. We've only a small force of twenty with us, and the baron has hundreds at his command. Like it or not, we're somewhat at his mercy at the moment,” Morgan said.

*

Baron Rostvelde sat staring at the doors the prince had just left through. He began absentmindedly stroking his red beard when the air began to shimmer next to his throne. He looked over as Kresk's human visage became visible. “You handled that well, baron,” Kresk said, “he will find no proof and be forced to go back to the capital without cause for immediate response. Everything still goes as planned.”

“I'm taking an awful chance, Kresk. What if they find something while they're here?” demanded the baron.

“They won't, we have people watching them day and night. Search as they might, they'll be finding no cause for concern during their stay here. I've made sure of this. With the pay increase that we've given to your loyal guardsmen and huntsmen, no one will even want to talk with the prince and the accountants. Everything is going according to plan, my lord. It just requires you to have patience.” Kresk “

“Even so, I didn't need you hiding invisible next to me watching. What if the prince has used a spell of minor detection? Then what would we have done? I'm risking everything on this plan of yours,” the baron scolded Kresk, “and we don't need to take stupid risks. What, you don't trust me?”

Kresk smiled, “You'll forgive me if I don't have the most faith in you, as it wasn't that long ago you tried to kill me. As for the prince using magic, I hardly thought it a risk. He's been groomed to rely on the armor he wears, and non of its abilities I've read of show any type of detecting magic. If his armor doesn't produce the power, I'd wager my life that the prince thinks it pointless. Besides, he is young and arrogant and probably unable to conceive of how far your betrayal to Kahari goes.”

“You underestimate the boy, he's been trained since birth for his role. It won't take him long to learn the harsh truths just as I did,” Arliss said, allowing himself to briefly fall back into memories of when he'd first joined the Radiant Knights.

“He will not have the time to mature, baron. By the time you are king of these lands he will still be a man child with an army that doesn't believe in him. You will be well protected here in the mountains by then, with all of your next allies waiting to surprise anyone fool enough to try and take your crown away from you,” Kresk said. “We just need more time for all of the pieces to come together, my lord. Don't get squeamish on me now, when we're so close to victory.”

Baron Rostvelde grunted in response, “Squeamish? You accuse me of being weak? I have the nerve to see this plan through to the end, Kresk. I'm more concerned about you keeping up your end.”

“Every tribe of goblin and giant in this region will be swearing loyalty to you, baron, just as I've promised. Many already have. And when the time comes closer,” Kresk said, “I'll raise a force of necronoids to endlessly fight for your cause.”

The baron smiled at the thought of undead soldiers fighting mercilessly with his forces, beating back the Royal Guard and declaring his independence from Kahari. Even if it wasn't his own plan, the baron knew it was a good plan. He could almost feel the weight of his own crown sitting atop his shaven head. It was only a matter of time.

*

Eldred was giving his final instructions to the eight soldiers accompanying the tax caravan. “I want it to be made clear that your highest priority is my daughter's safety, not the taxes. If any harm befalls her I will hold each of you personally responsible. You are the best our city has to offer, and I expect nothing but exceptional service from you on this mission.”

Lucy and Gaius were mounted on horses, along with a handful of other travelers who were joining the tax caravan. Aside from the armored cart with the taxes, there were four other carts laden with trade goods and materials to be sold in the capital.

Lucy was tired of hearing her father lecture the soldiers he was sending with her. She didn't feel she needed looking after, let alone protected. She had made peace with her family in the weeks leading up to her departure, largely thanks to Gaius's influence. Lucy had still hammered sword fighting drills into Gaius each day, but rather than go to her grandfather's tomb and mourn or wander the woods alone as she so often did she spent her time with her family. Now, though, Lucy felt it was her moment and was ready to be off. “Father, your soldiers know their duty,” she said, “and as you've said repeatedly the roads are safe so there is little to worry about. Might we just be off without any more of this ceremony?”

The newly appointed baron smiled at his daughter, “In such a hurry to grow up. Very well,” Eldred said, “you may be off.”

“Wait!” cried Norrik who came rushing around a corner, breathing heavily and shambling as fast as his ancient body could carry him. “Wait!”

“What is it, Norrik?” asked Eldred.
“I have some things that I wanted to pass along to Gaius, a farewell gift,” Norrik explained.

Gaius quickly dismounted as Lucy rolled her eyes at the further delay of their departure. “Yes, Norrik,” he asked, “what is it you wish to give me?”

“These two potions of bodily healing, made by master of the PURPLEROBES Rafa himself many years ago. They are potent, so make sure the need is great when you decide to use one. And,” the old hedge mage pulled open a pouch and began to rummage around in it's depths, “wait, I know it's in here somewhere... just a moment... Aha!” he pulled out a silver ring and held it between his gnarled fingers. “This ring will allow you to turn into a raven. Not the most powerful sigil, but I honestly have no use for it. I just wish I had more to give you. You'll make a fine mage, my boy!” Norrik handed over the two vials and the ring, then gave Gaius a long hug.

“Goodbye, Norrik. And thank you,” Gaius said. He then remounted his horse.

“Can we leave now? If we wait around any longer we won't even make it to the river before nightfall,” Lucy said. Eldred nodded once and Lucy's mother waved one final time but Lucy did not see, she had spurred her horse on and was riding at a gallop out of town.

“Gaius,” Eldred said as Gaius was about to spur his own horse on after Lucy, “Keep an eye on Lucille.”

“I will, your lordship,” he promised, bowed his head, then sped off on his own horse after Lucy.

*

Kieran and Morgan led the column of troops down the main road out of the baron's lands, with thick forest on either side of the road and mountains stretching up on either side of the valley in which the city was located. “You performed admirably,” Morgan said, “there was nothing more that could be done. The baron's ledgers appear to back up his claims about lost income from the merchant kings. There was nothing more we could do.”

“They must be forgeries. His city is so clearly booming, how long does he think he can keep up this charade?”

“An interesting point indeed, your highness,” came a voice from nowhere, “but what is it that the baron is truly after?”

As one the soldiers drew weapons and surrounded the royal accountants to protect them while Kieran and Morgan drew their own blades preparing for battle. “Show yourself,” commanded Kieran.

A shadowy form jumped down from one of the trees next to the road and landed gracefully in front of the prince and Morgan. The figure wore a gray hooded cloak hiding his face, with a curved sword sheathed at his waist and a longbow slung over one shoulder. “There is no need for weapons, I'm here as a friend. There were rumors going around the city about the royal accountants trying to find missing tax money, and I might have some thoughts as to where that money went.”

“And who might you be?” asked Kieran. The figure pulled his hood back revealing long pine green hair and brilliant violet eyes and pointed ears. “An elf?” remarked Kieran. “What would an elf know about the affairs of men?”

“My name is Rowain, and I've been a warden for these lands for the past fifteen years,” explained Rowain.

“What would an elf be doing in human lands working for one of our barons?” asked Morgan.

“Quite simply, I grew tired of the elven homeland some thirty years ago and decided to go out and travel the world and see its lands first hand. During my travels I came across this small town and, after aiding the former baron Rostvelde with a few issues I was offered a position within his household as a warden of these lands. I decided to stay because keeping my residence in a trade town such as this allowed me to meet all kinds of different travelers. But when the old baron died so unexpectedly, Arliss took power and things began to change. First, the new baron told the entire city guard that their services were no longer required and brought in men loyal to him. Many more men than he needed.  Then his new adviser, a human by the name of Kresk, began taking over the day to day running of the city. Taxes have been raised to an unbearable burden on the common citizen. I've seen this Kresk traveling alone into the mountains, but even with my great tracking skills and personal knowledge of these lands he eludes me. I find this very disconcerting,” Rowain said.

“Perhaps he's better at hiding his steps than you are at finding them,” offered Morgan.

“Hardly,” Rowain scoffed, “I served for one hundred and twenty years in the Emerald Legion, and was the leader of many fellow legionnaires as we hunted many kinds of friend and foe in our home forests. No, Kresk must be using some sort of magical means to hide his trails from me. But since Arliss has taken control of NORTHCITY, things have gotten worse for the typical person. However, anyone in the guard or serving Arliss directly has had their pay go up substantially. I'll admit that I was making three times under Arliss what I made serving under his father,” Rowain explained.

“Then why are you talking to us now?” asked  Kieran, who sheathed his sword. All of his men, including Morgan, did the same. “It seems to me you have a good deal going for you here. Why jeopardize that?”

“Because I don't like Arliss,” explained Rowain. “He is a ruthless, scheming man who only lusts for power. Also because I can a conflict brewing, and I do not want to be counted among Arliss's men when that time comes. He has many plans in the works, and though I know not what they are I see the evidence of them daily. Recently I've observed groups of Arliss's men leaving these lands, armed for combat, but I hear nothing of any conflicts going on around the keep. Arliss is planning something, and I fear that lost taxes are the least of your worries.”

“Would you be willing to tell these things to my father, the king?” asked Kieran.

“My honor, and my respect for the former baron of these lands, leaves me with little option,” Rowain said.

“Then you may ride with one of the accountants, as you seem to be wearing light armor and not have too much in the way of possessions with you,” Kieran instructed.

Rowain smiled, “Your offer is gracious, your highness, but I think I will be able to keep up just fine on foot. It is evident that your knowledge of elves is somewhat lacking.”

“To be truthful, I've not known many elves and known none of them well,” Kieran conceded.

“Then let us take the time as we travel for you to learn a little of our ways. As one of royal blood, such knowledge may serve you well,” Rowain offered.

Kieran shrugged, “Perhaps. I'm more concerned with the information you hold about the baron and these lands,” Kieran said. “Now let us see if you can keep up with the pace we're setting to get back to Kahari.”

“It shouldn't be a problem, I've been following you from high above the trees since you left NORTHCITY,” Rowain siad. Kieran frowned and spurred on his horse, forcing the rest of the assembled soldiers and accountants to do the same. Rowain stretched for a moment then sped off after them, easily catching up to the lead horse and keeping pace with the prince.

*

“What's the holdup?” asked Gaius. The caravan seemed to have stopped and all of the soldiers were in the front.”

“There's a tree blocking the road,” Lucy said smiling, “and I'm willing to bet that it's no accident.” She rubbed the pommel of her sword, her body tensing up.

“You will surrender the carts,” the two of them heard a voice shout out from in front of the soldiers, “or we'll kill all of you and take them. We have you surrounded.”

Upon hearing that Lucy and Gaius looked to both sides of the road and could see figures moving within the forest. “We're outnumbered,” Gaius said.

“We'll have the element of surprise if we attack first,” Lucy said. “Can you turn into a raven and fly off behind the group to the right, then deal with them while I charge the group to the left?”

“I don't know, I've barely used the ring. And you can't charge into men with bows drawn and expect to survive! Just let the soldiers handle this!” Gaius begged.

“If we let the soldiers handle this by themselves I get the feeling my father's first tax shipment isn't going to make it to Kahari, and the money to pay for your admission into the Kahari Mage School will also be gone,” Lucy said, “so if you want to go back to JORRAHCITY and become a hedge mage instead, you can sit back and do nothing.”

Gaius paused for a moment and looked up at the soldiers in front of the caravan. They seemed to be talking amongst themselves, trying to decide exactly what they should do. Finally, Giaus said, “Fine, but give me a few moments before you go charging off and I'll cover you.” Lucy nodded, “I mean it, Lucy. This isn't a game. These people will be trying to kill us.”

Lucy looked Gaius in the eyes, “This is what I've trained my whole life for. I won't let grandfather down.”

Gaius mentally activated the ring and was instantly transformed into a raven. He flew off to the right high above and away from the bandits. “They had a mage!” shouted one of the bandits, “but it looks like he fled!” A cheer went up from the ranks of the bandits. Gaius circled around for a few moments to see how many attackers there were. There were eight heavily armed bandits using the fallen tree in front of the road as cover, and six to either side with bows drawn. 

Gaius flew down into the woods behind the bandits on the right. He transformed back into his human self behind a bush then quickly tore a scab off of his finger. He drew forth the blood and whispered the words forming the magic into a killing spell, and took the time draw a secondary target for the spell. Red light danced between the fingers on Gaius's right hand and the bleeding spot on his left hand. 

Gaius paused, weighing the choice he was about to make. He'd never taken a life before, let alone used magic to do so. He didn't want to be a killer. Yet he could see no other option. “Protect Lucy,” he heard Eldred say in his mind. Thinking of Lucy's safety forced all hesitation from his mind.
He suddenly released his fingers and two red bolts shot forth and struck the bandits from behind, piercing their hearts. They collapsed to the ground as Gaius hid behind the bush and began casting another killing spell.

He came up from behind the bush and let loose with two more magic bolts of killing energy just as the other four bandits seemed to notice something was amiss with their companions. Two more bandits fell dead. “The mage is attacking!” shouted one of the remaining bandits. Gaius fired one final burst of magic at the remaining two bandits as he heard the guards at the front of the caravan charging the bandits behind the tree.

Sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him Gaius made it back to where he'd left his horse just in time to see Lucy charge off towards the bandits on the left side of the trail. “Lucy, no, wait!” he shouted but she seemed oblivious to his cries as she charged forward towards the left flank of attackers.

*

Lucy heard Gaius call out to her, but her mind was already set to take out the left flank by herself. With her armor and armored horse, she knew it would be hard for any of the bandits to score a critical hit. Besides, if she did nothing they could fire on the soldiers who had charged the front or worse the innocent people in the caravan. Charging headlong into battle was her best option, and she knew it.

Her heart began pumping wildly, and as her horse charged towards the group of men at the treeline she drew her sword and shield then lowered her head. Her long blonde hair was trailing behind her like the tail of a comet. The first volley of arrows bounced harmlessly off her and the horse's armor except for one arrow that bounced off of Lucy's shield. Before they could draw and aim another shot Lucy was upon them.

She thrust her blade down at the bewildered bandit closest to her, her sword sliding right through an opening of the armor at the neck scoring a mortal wound on the bandit. Lucy brought her horse around as the bandit fell gurgling blood from his mouth to the ground. She maneuvered her horse to act as a barrier between three of the bandits and her, then jumped down and engaged the other two bandits, both of whom had dropped their bows for swords.

Lucy shook her head as she advanced them, noting the quality of the bandit's weapons. These were well armed foes. Lucy decided to take them a bit more seriously, and opted to keep her shield instead of switching to a dagger in her off hand. After sizing them up for a moment she charged again without hesitation.

Both of the men took swings at her as soon as she got close, but Lucy dodged one attack entirely while deflecting the other with her shield. She then swung her sword hard down on the shoulder of the bandit on her left, tearing through his light armor and deep into the flesh. Before he could respond she jammed the edge of her shield into his throat, dropping him to his knees.

The second bandit swung again at Lucy but she was able to bring her sword to block just in time. The bandit pressed forward, trying to use his strength to overcome Lucy. Lucy, however, with years of physical conditioning held her ground. Then, she feigned back for a moment then as the bandit pressed she brought her armored knee solidly up into the groin of the bandit. He winced and dropped his sword staggering back. Lucy ran him through with her blade right as she noticed the other three bandits coming around the horse.

Seeing three of their companions dead, they seemed to be taking Lucy as a serious threat. They spread out and began to surround her. Lucy knew this was a bad sign. Still, she kept calm and kept walking back, not allowing them to circle around her. One of the bandits drew his bow back out while the other two kept advancing. Lucy knew she was in trouble.

The only way out of this fight alive she could see was to engage both bandits still wielding swords and hope that the archer would not fire into combat out of fear of hitting his companions. The archer fired his first shot before Lucy could act, but Lucy was able to bring her shield to bear against it. She surged forward with a barrage a swings at the bandit on her right, while knocking back attacks from the bandit on her left with her shield.

Soon she found herself stuck between bandits, either forced to attack one or block the other and finding herself wearing out quickly. She risked a glance at the archer and saw that he'd dropped his bow and was advancing with sword drawn. It was time for something daring. Lucy surged forward at the bandit on her right, forcing him back then immediately spun and thrust her sword through the armor and deep into the chest of the bandit on her left. The bandit died with a look of shock in his eyes. Lucy then, with the force from the same movement swung her shield around smashing into the other bandit. As Lucy pulled her sword free the bandit threw his body against her shield and knocked her onto the ground of the woods.

Both bandits were standing above her frowning. “You're going to pay for what you've done to our friends,” one of them said. They raised their swords to strike, but before they could Lucy saw two familiar red lines of magical energy strike each of the bandits. They both fell to the ground dead.

Gaius came running up. He was extremely pale, and looked sick. He was breathing heavy and sweating profusely. “Are... you... ok?” he asked between gasps for breath.

“I am, thanks to you. Are you ok?”

“I used... a lot... of... blood...” Gaius fell to the ground. “Need... time... to rest...” he said as he leaned on a tree for support.

Lucy rushed over to him, helping to steady his swaying movements.

“Help... the others...” Gaius gasped as he fell to his knees. “I'll be... fine...”

Lucy squeezed his arm gently, “Stay put,” she said and headed off to the other soldiers still fighting. 

By the time she arrived there was little for her to do. One of her father's knights had been killed, and two others seriously injured but the remaining bandits had been slain. The knights were just getting around to splitting up into groups to deal with the bandits on either side of them when Lucy approached. “Your ladyship should stay in a safer location until we've secured the area,” the knight captain said.

“There's no need, all of the other bandits on either side of the caravan are already dead. Gaius killed one group and I dealt with most of the bandits on the other side.”

The captain frowned, “Your ladyship should not be risking her life so frivolously. What would your father have done to us if any harm had come to you?”

“Don't treat me like a child, captain. By right of birth I outrank you here, and in combat I am more than a match for you and any two of your men. Besides, Gaius was there to help me,” she said, infuriated at their treating her like a lady. “After all, I am headed to Kahari to join the Royal Guad.”

“As you say,” the captain conceded. “It will take us some time to move this tree blocking the road, and for us to bury our fallen. It is not clear if the two who are wounded will survive the day.”

“I think I can help with that,” said Gaius as he approached slowly, still breathing heavily and looking pale but appearing to have gotten a small measure of his strength back.

“What can a young minor untrained hedge mage do against such serious wounds? I could see if you wore the purple robes, but you are just now beginning in your training.”

“You mean what can I do aside from killing eight of the bandits myself?” asked Gaius.

The knight captain scowled, “You lie.”

Gaius merely shrugged and reached into a pouch and produced two of the healing potions Norrik had given him and handed them to the captain. “Give each of your seriously wounded men one of these to drink. They were brewed by Norrik himself, personal mage to Lucy's family for over sixty years.”

The captain's face softened, “You would share such wealth with men you hardly know?”

“To save the lives of men who fought to defend others, I'd give as much as I can,” Gaius answered, staring intently at the captain while raising the potions towards him.

“Your generosity humbles me,” the knight captain said. “My men and I thank you for your gift of life.” He took the potions from Gaius, bowed, and went off to see to the wounds of his men.

“You didn't have to do that,” Lucy said, “they took an oath to serve until their death.”

Gaius frowned, “Then let them keep serving. You should not be so careless with the lives of those who serve you, Lucy. If you are, then you may find them less than willing to follow you into danger. A soldier with no loyalty is a danger to his entire army. A soldier with loyalty will follow you into certain death and be glad for the chance to serve.”

Lucy leaned in and kissed Gaius on the cheek, “When I'm head of the Royal Guard I think I'm going to command you to be my personal adviser.”

Gaius blushed at the kiss, but quickly regained his composure, “And when I'm head of the Mage's Guild I'll inform you that I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

They both laughed.

It took two full days for the caravan to move the huge tree that blocked the road. During that time, bodies of all the bandits Gaius had killed had been discovered and rumors quickly spread that he was a great mage. The people in the caravan whispered about his ability to take flight like a bird, and how he'd had magic to heal the wounded knights. Gaius was soon left alone by all except the knights, who now looked upon him as a savior, and Lucy, who felt that Gaius had shown her up in her first real combat.

Gaius said very little. Unlike Lucy, who'd taken to battle naturally, he had reservations. Taking a life left him with guilt. The men he had slain had no chance to survive their encounter with him. That they were there to rob and possibly kill them brought little consolation to Gaius. He disliked killing, he decided, and suddenly knew that following the path of the Order of Radiant Knights was no longer in his future. Gaius decided that he would fight anyone who wished his magic to be used for bringing death.

Once the tree was moved, the caravan made it's way to Kahari with no further incidents.

Lucy could see the capital of Kahari from miles away. It's high walls ran all the way around the city proper, with many buildings being built up outside the walls. Near one side of town were the legendary five towers of the Mage's Guild, each crafted by a master of the Brown Robes shortly after the founding of the city for each of the primary orders of magic. Visible also was the White Tower, home of the mages of the purple robes. Rising almost as high as the towers of the mages was the royal castle, with walls rising high above even the outer walls.

As the caravan made it's way into the outer city, wagons and people began to leave for destinations not in the city proper. By the time they got to the South gate the caravan consisted of only the solders, the wagon with the royal taxes, Gaius and Lucy, and one wagon full of a trader with goods to be sold to one of the trading guilds within the city. They were passed through the gate with little ceremony, merely being asked by the guards what their destination was. They were quickly given directions to their destinations and moved through quickly.

Once through the gate, the man driving the tax card produced a small bag of gems and handed it to Gaius. “The tuition for your training at the Mage's Guild, as Jorrah instructed to be paid unto you when we arrived in the city.” The knights praised Gaius for his aid with the bandits, each proclaiming that he was destined to become a great mage. The knights continued with the wagon carrying the taxes and the trader made his way to the trade district.

Lucy and Gaius stood just inside the gate, knowing that now their paths would diverge. “I guess this is where we part ways,” Lucy finally said.

Gaius nodded, “I'm sure we'll see each other around the city. They can't expect us to train all hours of the day,” but as Gaius said it, he began to wonder if that would be the case.

“I'd better hurry up, we're three days later than we were supposed to arrive and training for the Royal Guard started yesterday. I'm sure they won't take too kindly to my late arrival.”

“I still have another full week before my studies begin, shall I come with you to the royal training grounds?” Gaius asked.

“No,” Lucy replied, “I think this is something I have to do on my own.” She looked away for a moment, then walked over to Gaius and gave him a warm hug.

Again, Gaius blushed at the contact with Lucy. “What was that for?” he asked.

“That was for saving my life. If you hadn't been with us, we'd have all been dead for sure,” she said. “Now I have to get going, I don't want to be any later than I already am.” She waved a final farewell, mounted her horse and began trotting off towards the training ground.

As she left, Gaius could not get the smell of her hair out of his mind. Once his thoughts cleared, he made his way towards the towering structures that made up the Mage's Guild.

“Parry!” yelled the instructor. “Strike!”

Lucy walked up to the lines of young men going through the motions of the blade that the instructor shouted at. Some of the recruits she could tell were new to the sword, while others had obvious training. From her estimation, though, none of the recruits held anything close to her talent with the sword. As she approached, the instructor stopped yelling at his recruits and glared at her. “What do you want, wench?” he growled.

“I'm a new recruit,” she answered.

“Ha, a woman in the Royal Guard? Hardly,” he sized her up for a moment, “You barely look like you can hold a sword, let alone wield it.”

Lucy revealed a wry smile, “Judging by your technique, it's a wonder you've ever produced a successful soldier.”

“You doubt my skill?” demanded the instructor.

“I don't doubt it, I just know that I'm the superior blademaster here,” she said.

Face red, the instructor walked over, grabbed a sword from one of the recruits and threw it at Lucy. She deftly caught it.

“So you think you've got what it takes to be in the Royal Guard? Let's test that,” and without another word he drew his own blade and charged.

Lucy was not surprised, and calmly moved out of the way of the attack. “From what I've heard of the Royal Guard, I expected someone with more temperance to be training the recruits.”

The instructor said nothing and began a barrage of blows. As Lucy easily deflected each strike, she could tell he was getting more and more frustrated. “Tell me that's not the extent of your abilities. I had more trouble with the bandits I fought on my way here from JORRAH'S KEEP.”

The instructor stopped holding back and began to rain down attacks that were meant to maim or kill. Still Lucy was able to keep him at bay, dodging here and ducking there, parrying easily the best the man could muster. When Lucy had finally had enough of the man's useless attempts to strike her, she dodged an attack meant to run her through, spun and swung the flat of her blade squarely on the instructor's hand, forcing him to drop the blade. Before he could respond she slipped a foot behind the leg that was carrying his weight, then threw he shoulder against him forcing him back and down to the ground, holding his broken hand. She raised her blade to his throat and asked, “Do you yield?”

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“I am Lucille LASTNAME, granddaughter of the late king's swordmaster Jorrah, trained since birth for the trials of combat. Now, might I have your name so that I might know who to report such a frivolous attack against a member of the royal houses?”

Gritting his teeth, he said, “A thousand apologies my lady, I expected the one sent for training from JORRAH'S KEEP to be a man. And on time for training.”

“Well,” she said as she lowered her sword, “from the looks of it I have missed little.” She walked over to the recruit who had had his sword taken from him and handed it back, “That's a good blade. Very well balanced.”

Looking at the instructor then back at Lucy the recruit said, “It's the one they gave me when I got here.”

“Then it's good to know the kingdom arms it's soldiers well,” she said.

A man in purple robes with gold trim slowly approached, “Your ladyship,” he said gently, “if you are through with Hammish, might I attend to his injuries?”

Lucy eyed the mage, noticing the coin sized blood well on his hand. “Of course, my intent was not to maim. It was to put him in his place.”

The Hammish glared at her, but said nothing. He merely held his limp and broken hand with his other hand. The mage walked over to him, touched his blood well, then yellow light surrounded the injured hand, which was beginning to take on a dark color from the bruising. Soon it appeared normal.

Hammish stood up, retrieved his own sword and sheathed it. “You'll find that there's more to the royal guard than swordsmanship,” he said.

“I'm sure there is, and I am here to serve the king. But I am not here to be treated like a child by someone who cannot stand against me in single combat,” she said.

Hammish opened his mouth to say something, but instead just closed his mouth and shook his head. “Go get a sword and then take your place in line,” then he added, “my lady,” seething with contempt.

Gaius arrived at the Kahari Mage Guild almost a full week before session was to begin. An official in their main offices took the letter with Jorrah's official seal pressed into the dark blue ink of the barony's seal. The clerk barely paid it any mind, instead asking for full tuition up front. Gaius handed him the bag of gems, and surprisingly the clerk told him that he had more than he needed for schooling by a substantial margin. Gaius thanked the clerk for his honesty and silently thanked the dead baron for his generosity. He was given new robes woven of magical spellthread, enchanted to stay warm on a cold day and cool on a hot day. They were bright orange. They would be his robes to do with as he pleased until he received the robes of an order of mages. He was then given directions to his new home in the dormitories. Gaius eagerly made his way there.

Gaius unpacked his few possessions into the chest at the foot of his bed in the mage guild's student dormitories. First year students had general housing, with the full class of fifty staying in a single open dormitory. Second year students moved into five man rooms. Apprentices had accommodations based on their master. 

Gaius, now wearing the orange robes of an initiate, was excited to be living around so many other young mages. He had actual peers to interact with for the first time in his life. There were only five other students in the room at the time. Most of the students were still out with their noble families enjoying time in the city with all the prestige their children now have as students of the mage's guild.

When Gaius was finished unpacking he made his way over to one of the other students lounging around the room on his bed and introduced himself, “Hello,” he said, “I”m Gaius Sinclair.”

The other student, a very chubby boy with a very round face, frowned and said, “What's wrong with your knuckled,” and pointed to Gaius's left hand.

Gaius raised his hand and pointed to the scabbed over area, “That's where I draw blood for my spells.”

“You're a hedge mage?” he asked.

“I was trained as one, yes,” Gaius said.

“And I thought I was going to have a hard time here,” the fat boy said.

“Why would I have a hard time here?” asked Gaius.

“You've used low magic, they say it makes you weak. I'm surprised they're even willing to train you here,” he said as he say up, “I'm Lord Gurad Tosa, of the eastern noble house of Hale. But that title doesn't mean anything. The only reason I'm able to come here is because my family commands me to join the Order of the Blue Robes. Then they'll have guaranteed crops each year, and the family will prosper and I'll just be a resource. Really I'd like to join the Order of the White Robes, but I can't imagine my family's response if I actually did that. I'd be disowned, and they'd likely try to levy against me fines equaling their investment in my education here. So I'm kind of stuck.”

“If you wore the White how could any catch you for your debts? You could simply fly away,” Gaius offered.
Gurad smiled, “True, but I'd be flying away from my inheritance and my title. It isn't really as bad as I make it sound. It just gets frustrating having every aspect of your life planned out for you in advance,” he sighed heavily.

“I know the feeling. My father was a knight but died while a was young and my mother died giving birth to me, so I was informally taken in by the Baron Jorrah LASTNAME. I was trained for combat at an early age but since they'd discovered spellblood in my veins when I was twelve I was  sent to live with Norrik, the baron's personal hedge mage. He taught me right up until this summer, where I was once again trained with the sword for combat. The baron's dying wish was that I join the Radiant Knights,” Gaius paused and looked down, feeling shame at the words coming out of his mouth, “but I don't believe I will. I don't want a life of combat. My experiences on the road to get here have left me somewhat frightful of what magic can do to an unarmed man.”

“Go on, hedge mage,” said another boy, walking over from the other side of the room, “tell us another lie.” He had short curly black hair, and was wearing numerous gold chains and gem studded rings. “Filth like you shouldn't even be here.”

“Leave him alone, Kelof, “Gurad said as he stood up.

“The fat noble with no lands to his name defends the hedge mage? I'd wager the pair of you are unable to complete the first year's training, let alone get to wear robes of an order,” scoffed Kelof.

“And who are you to be so confident?” asked Gaius.

“I'm Kelof Von Maeslyn, heir to the Von Maeslyn shipping empire and son of Vralthis of the Tradewinds, High Order of the White Robes, captain of the Azure Drake, lead ship of the Von Maeslyn fleet,” he said proudly, “and I am here to be the top student in our class. And you,” he said as he shoved Gaius hard, “are not worthy to be here with your vile blood magic.”

Gaius started laughing, “You idiot, all magic is blood magic. Why do you think they call it a blood well? It's just how you get at the blood that differs.” Gaius held up his scabbed over knuckle, “I've actually used the blood to form magic. What have you ever done?”

Kelof swung his hand out and suddenly a translucent blade appeared at Gaius's throat, “I can do that,” he grinned.

Scratching at the scab on his knuckle Gaius drew forth a few drops of blood, and quickly formed the spellblood into a form of counter spelling. The blade disappeared. Kelof had a look of utter shock on his face. It was still there as a blue robed mage came running into the room.

“Who just cast that spell?” demanded the mage.

“Which one?” asked Gaius. “Kelof here decided to summon a spectral blade at my neck, so I dispelled it.”

“You aren't supposed to be casting spells yet. How did you do it?” he asked.

Kelof smiled, “I didn't cast a spell, I haven't learned the blood well yet.”

“Yes you did,” said Gurad, “you waved your hand and made that blade appear!”

“That wasn't me casting a spell, that was me activating a sigil. I guess a noble like you wouldn't really know the difference,” Kelof said.

“Produce the ring,” demanded the mage. Kelof did so and the blue robed mage called forth the blade. “And you dispelled this? How? What training do you have?” Gaius told the mage his tale and when he was finished the mage said, “Remarkable. Would you mind doing it one more time? I'd like to observe.”

As fast as he could, trying to show off for the mage, he dispelled the blade. 

“Amazing,” the mage said. He handed the ring back to Kelof, “If I ever hear of you using this ring again on school grounds you'll be expelled.

“As for you, Gaius was it? We prefer not to have students using magic on the grounds. I'm surprised at how powerful your spells are with no formal training here. I would not have suspected that being trained by a hedge mage could yield such promising results. It felt as if a spell of the magnitude of one already wearing the robes had cast it,” the mage smiled. “Try to save your blood, though, classes will be demanding.”

“Yes, sir, I will,” Gaius responded.

“Now behave yourselves,” he said and left the room.

Kelof stormed over to his bed and laid down, infuriated. He glared at Gaius as he slipped his ring back on.

“I don't think you two are going to get along,” stated Gurad.

Gaius shrugged, “I think he just realized he might have competition for top of the class.”

“I'm anxious to see this recruit, I hear he disarmed Hammish on his first day here after showing up late,” Kieran said, “Hammish is no slouch. Now that I'm in charge of the royal guard I'm on the look out for talent to promote. I demand the best.” He held his spyglass up to his eye and began scanning the yard, “Which one is he?”

“There is a small matter that I haven't been able to explain yet, your highness,” Pothan said.

“Just tell me which one, and I'll judge for myself,” Kieran snapped.

“It's the young woman.”

“The what?” asked Kieran.

“The young woman. Lucille LASTNAME. She is Baron Jorrah LASTNAME's granddaughter, and has evidently been trained since her birth with the sword. I've watched her doing mock combats, and I'd wager she could keep up with anyone currently serving in the royal guard. It's been a long time since we've had a woman in the royal guard who wasn't a Radiant Knight. It could be problematic.”

Kieran scanned the training grounds until he found Lucy, sword and shield in hands, keeping Hammish and one of his lackeys at bay. She was faster than either of her opponents. She was shouting something out. Kieran drew blood from his bloodwell and cast a spell of hearing, to make out her words.

She was giving them suggestions on how to perform more effective attacks, none of which were taken. She deftly dodged and parried her way from blows with the grace and form of a dancer. After listening for a few moments Kieran realized her words were not for Hammish but the other cadets who were probably listening to her every word. He soon saw nods and pointing from the cadets gathered around.

Kieran knew Hammish, and knew he would be unrelenting towards Lucy the entire time she was there. Hammish had been trained by the king's current swordmaster. He was adequate to the task, but Kieran wished now that his father had someone of Lucy's grandfather's legendary skill guiding his soldier's training. It was not the army the kingdom had fielded a generation ago, and Kieran was going to change that.

He watched Lucy make Hammish and his aide like two buffoons for a few more moments, then dismissed the hearing spell and put away the spyglass. “If she makes it through training she'll be a welcome, if not unusual, addition to the ranks.”

“I was surprised to get your summons,” Gaius said to Lucy as they sat at a table in a crowded bar outside the merchant's district. “I'm a little shocked you chose a place called 'The Painted Harlot' to meet in,” he said, suspiciously eying his tea.

“It's a soldier bar, I want to be around soldiers. So how's life at the Kahari Mage Guild? What are the other students like?” Lucy asked.

“It's been terrible,” Gaius said and set his drink back down. “I'm marked a hedge mage by my peers, so everyone treats me like a lesser. It doesn't help that all of the other students are from trading guilds or noble houses. I feel like I'm going to be spending the next year of my life being ridiculed. In a few days, though, classes will start and I hope that things will change then. How has training been going for you?”

“Easy. Hammish, the instructor tasked with training the soldiers in the use of the sword, wouldn't even be a match for you,” Lucy said.

“Thanks,” muttered Gaius, “I'm glad I can be the low end for your example.”

“No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I think highly of you skills,” she smiled, “I trained you after all. But he's been hand selected by the king's swordmaster to train the royal guard and I do not believe he is up to the task. I would not presume to place you in charge of training the soldiers either.”

“What?” asked Gaius, “You think you should be training your fellow recruits?”

“I could do a better job...” Lucy tilted her head and looked up thoughtfully, “but no, I want to see the front lines of combat, to achieve great honor for my family. I don't want to spend my life just showing people how to wield their weapon. I want to experience the application of that form.”

Gaius shook his head, “If I never have to kill again it will be too soon. The looks on the faces of the bandits I murdered on the road here still haunt me.”

“You didn't murder anyone, Gaius,” Lucy said as she placed a hand on his arm, “you defended people against evil men. There is no reason for you to feel anything but pride in doing so. People all over the city have heard various members of the caravan and the knights talking about your exploits. To all of those people there you were a hero. Don't forget that.”

“I don't feel very heroic. All I did was kill people the same way I'd slaughter a stag for food. They had no defense against what I did to them,” he said.

“What was the alternative? We hand over the taxes and the money for your schooling, and then go on our way?” asked Lucy.

“No, I am not saying what we did had no purpose. It just left me with a dark feeling,” Gaius took a long drink of his tea. “How are you dealing with being the only woman in the recruits?”

“It's not so bad,” Lucy said, “being a noble I have special private housing, as I'm also being trained for command. Next week we get assigned our training squad, which we will compete in the Broken Crown Games during graduation. Some people get annoyed that I push back at Hammish so much, because he takes it out on everyone. But the truth is that they pay more attention to me and what I say than him most times, so I've garnered enough respect to get by. Nobody has said a thing about me being a woman, but I think that's because they know I'd break their nose for doing so.”

Gaius laughed, and he realized it was the first time he'd done so since his encounter with the bandits. He started to wonder if he'd still be able to see Lucy once they'd both graduated and moved on.

It was the first day of real class, and all forty six students in Gaius's class were in a large room with Zavira Hlynn, wearing her white robes, instructing the students on the most basic and important spell they were to learn, the ability to open up their blood well. Each student had been supplied with a silver needle, a necessary component for opening a blood well.

“First, you will press the needle into the back of the hand you wish to draw the blood from. Once you have a drop of blood, you will draw out the blood with the first finger and thumb of your other hand,” Master Hlynn explained. “You will chant 'Arcanus gatian,” while rubbing the blood you've drawn out into a circle. Don't be frustrated if it takes you more than one try, the wording and tone must be precise as well as the movements be perfectly circular. Just keep trying until you see the small space where you pricked your hand expand. Now, begin,” she commanded.

The students proceeded to prick their hands and begin chanting.

Gaius pricked his hand, chanted the words of the spell, and instantly a circle filled the entirety of the back of his hand. The instant he had finished, he looked up and saw master Hlynn making her way through the classroom of chanting students towards his desk.

“Let me see your hand,” he demanded.

Gaius showed her his newly formed bloodwell and her eyes widened. 

“You are the young hedge mage, yes?” she asked.

“I thought that now that I was officially a part of the mage school that label would go away,” Gaius said as he frowned.

“I meant not to demean you,” master Hlynn said, “only for a point of reference. I felt an incredible surge of magical power when you opened your blood well.” The other students in the classroom that had now opened their blood wells were listening intently to the conversation. “Your blood well is enormous. It is larger than even master Cheslav's, the mightiest mage in our order.”

“This is a good thing, yes?” Giaus asked.

“It will be both a blessing and a curse,” master Hlynn explained. “The size of the blood well a mage opens is directly proportional to the magic in that mage's blood. The larger the well the more potent the blood. Your blood well is half again as big as master Cheslov's. Even with his years of training and experience, he sometimes has trouble controlling the massive magical power that channels forth from the blood well.

“You see, the blood well acts as a conduit for all of your spells. It is an open source of blood that will never scab over or waste blood dipping out. Only when you pull blood from the blood well with intent will the magical barriers give way to allow you to draw forth the blood. The larger the blood well, the more magic that will pour forth when called. I once saw master Cheslov pull more blood than he had intended for a spell and he incinerated a swath of woods surrounding his intended target. You will have to be far more careful when you pull blood, otherwise your spells will grow to proportions too powerful for you to direct,” master Hlynn stared for a few moments at Gaius's blood well, deep in thought.

Gaius nodded, “Then I will use the utmost caution. Thank you for your wisdom.”

“There is nothing you need to thank me for. Your admission was paid into the school, we are here to train you to become a member of one of our orders. I would be remiss in my duties if I did not educate my students on the realities they will face with the use of magic. I'll be keeping a close eye on you while you are here,” she turned and walked away, offering aid and assistance to those students who still had not opened their blood wells.

Gurad, sitting next to Gaius in the room, had finally opened his blood well. Gaius looked over and saw that it was the size of a coin, a size that the texts Gaius had read said was to be considered average. “What a relief,” Gurad said, “I wasn't sure it was going to happen.”

“I guess we're both on our way to becoming robed mages now,” Gaius said.

“Yes,” Gurad replied, “but it looks like you're in line to become a great mage.”

After all of the students had opened their blood wells, a process that took longer for many students, the young mages had a light lunch and were assembled again for a lecture on the history of magic taught my Master of the Grey Robes Vassintiues Maynard. Gaius had already become famous on the school grounds, with stories of his blood well already reaching the ears of every master.

Master Maynard waited patiently for his talkative students to stop talking before beginning. Once he had achieved silence in the room, he began. “The history of magic relates to the history of all living things in our world. In the beginning Lord Saelyn, highest of the ancient gods, created the lands and the seas, the forests and the deserts, the sun and the moons. When he was finished he looked with pleasure upon what he had made. He invited the lesser gods to come and see the wonders that he had made. He then allowed them to create creatures to live upon the lands and seas he had made. First came the dragons, made by the most powerful of the lesser gods. Each of them chose an environment, and in those places sprang forth dragons. Then other lessers gods made the animals of the land and the fishes of the sea.

“For many years the world existed in this way, with no man, elf, dwarf or giant walking the lands. Finally, some of the lesser gods decided to create creatures that more resembled the gods themselves. From these gods were created all races of intelligent creatures save man and ORC. When Saelyn saw what his fellow gods had done, he was pleased. He decided himself to create a race of creatures shorter lived than those of the lesser gods but with a greater capacity for adaptation. Man was created, and unlike the elves who lived only in the woods or the dwarves who lived in the mountains, to live in all environments.

“Largoth, the second most powerful god after Saelyn, saw what all of the other gods had done and was disgusted. He saw the peace and harmony in the world and was appalled. He then created the ORCs, who lived in as many lands as men, and created many other races to cause strife and discord in the perfect utopia.

“The gods, save Saelyn, had been living with the races they created when Largoth's races made war upon them. Largoth stood at the head of his hordes, defeating and enslaving race after race. The peoples and lesser gods cried out to Saelyn for aid, and he answered them, though not as they had hoped.

“Saelyn slit his wrist and on the creatures the blood fell upon magic, the power of the gods, was born. The peoples of the world united against Largoth's forces and drove them back from their lands. Largoth, humiliated at his defeat by the lesser gods, once more did as Saelyn did and spilled his own blood upon his creations creating darker magics.

“When the greatest of gods saw this, he was enraged. He came to EARTHNAME and demanded Largoth leave the world he had created. Largoth refused, saying that it would be unjust for him to have to leave while the other lesser gods were permitted to stay. A battle was fought, and after fifty years Largoth was driven away from EARTHNAME.

“After Largoth was gone, Saelyn came to see that the races of creatures that the lesser gods had created had become dependent on their creators. He called all of the lesser gods together and they formed a pact, to observe and guide life but to never again direct it. The gods retreated to their realms, where their creations go to live after their mortal demise.

“But Largoth had left something evil behind, he had sired a child with a(n) ORC. Secretly and quietly he began gaining power amongst the many tribes of ORCS and other races that Largoth had created. He was simply known as the Dark Sovereign. He laid in wait for five hundred years after the gods had left before he brought another great war against the other races. His power was overwhelming, and army after army fell to his conquest.

“In desperation the most powerful elven, dwarven and human mages created an artifact to combat the Dark Sovereign's armies. It was a crown, made of three interlocking pieces,that together allowed a powerful mage to use his magic on any army that swore loyalty to him. It was decided that King Alkre, most powerful human mage of his time, wear the crown and direct the army. He became the first Radiant Knight.

“Ten years of battle eventually led to the defeat of the Dark Sovereign in the south, his forces scattered to the winds. After the battle, the crown was broken into three pieces and each of the races who had helped to craft it kept once piece. They swore an oath that should a threat to all lands ever rise again, the crown would be reassembled and a human descended from Alkre would again lead their armies against the darkness.

“After the war was over, the human mages formed into seven groups. Thus were born the six orders of robes and the Radiant Knights. For twelve hundred years this has been our tradition, to carry on the ways of magic as were taught to us. We stand as the kingdom's defenders against the most powerful threats.”