Rowena normally disliked soups and stews as it comprised most of her meals. Sylva and her staff had kept her fed but were lazy about it. However, she hungrily sipped the nourishing liquid as Frances, Morgan and Hattie sat down with their bowls. She’d expected silverware and something more extravagant, but then again, the humble gatehouse on the northside of Kwent was far less well equipped than the White Order Guest House.
That and this morning's stew was quite good. It was thick with chunks of fatty meat, carrots, celery and tomatoes.
“I’m glad you are enjoying the meal. Did you have a good rest last night?” asked Frances.
Rowena nodded meekly, wide eyes glancing between the archmage and her own food. She could barely believe it. The famous mage was really quite short. For some reason Rowena could not figure out, the only sign of her rank and title were the gold trim on her robes along with two rings on her hands, a diamond one, and another with a very large blue sapphire.
“Master Frances is a fantastic cook,” said Hattie. She and Morgan sat beside Rowena at the circular table, whilst Frances sat across from her.
“It’s just lots of practice and experimentation.” Frances briefly brushed back her hair, which Rowena realised was rather reminiscent of chocolate. “Well, we’re going to have a lot of paperwork in the coming days, but we need to address one thing right here and now.”
“What’s that mom?” Morgan asked.
“An appropriate reward for Rowena’s bravery.”
Rowena had tried to ignore that Frances was looking at her. Now she just completely failed as her spoon almost jolted out of her numb grasp.
“What? Me? But I didn’t do anything.”
Frances smiled. “I heard a little from my daughter and my apprentice. In spite of your own fear of Sylva, you came to Morgan and Hattie to tell them what you knew out of your own volition. You provided the clues they needed to understand Lady Sylva’s plot.”
Rowena blinked. That didn’t sound right. Or at least, that wasn’t quite right. She’d seen part of Sylva’s plans in a vision—she met Morgan and then Hattie’s expectant gazes.
Oh, Morgan and Hattie hadn’t told Frances. Rowena almost sighed with relief and sheer joy, but this time managed to disguise it with a nod.
“And I saw on the rooftop what you did. Sylva was about to cast at Morgan right?” Frances asked.
Rowena nodded again. “I think so. Her arm twitched before she’d turn on me.”
“Wait, she was?” Morgan asked.
“Yes, and because Rowena distracted Sylva, she couldn’t get her spell off. I don’t think she’d win the fight, but she may have hurt my daughter and for that, you have my gratitude.”
The Stormcaller’s amber eyes did not waver, and neither did her smile. Rowena couldn’t quite meet her gaze or take the attention of someone who so many people had talked about in awestruck tones.
“I… I was just doing the right thing,” said Rowena.
“I know, but you have done many good things of late. More than enough to make up for the fires you’d set, and as I am the Archduchess of Athelda-Aoun and princess-consort to a Prince of Alavaria, I have to give gifts to those that rightfully deserve it.” Frances giggled behind her hand “It’s one of the parts of my position that I do quite like. So, Rowena, take your time, discuss it with us, but you ought to request something.
Oh, Rowena pursed her lips. That was easy enough. She looked up. “I want to go to Athelda-Aoun, live at Respite, and attend the School for the Magic and Mundane.”
Frances pursed her lips. “That will be done, but I can’t accept that as your reward.”
“Huh? Why not?” Rowena asked.
“Because we’d have taken you there anyway even if you hadn’t helped us save Kwent. It’s not really a reward,” said Frances.
That was incredibly nice of the archmage, but it left Rowena with not a lot to ask for. There was only one other thing.
“Can you… help me find out who I am?” she asked.
Morgan piped up. “We can, and we will. Hattie and I have decided to look into the matter on your behalf, but we don’t think you should consider that as your reward. There might not be a way to find out where you came from.”
Rowena picked at her braid. This was getting incredibly awkward. “But then, I really don’t really have anything to ask for.”
“Then if I may make a suggestion?” Hattie asked.
Something about the way the half-troll was looking at her, with eyes slightly half-lidded and her smile not quite complete put Rowena on edge. Hattie was about to say something important, and was she hesitating?
Rowena took a breath and nodded. Hattie and Morgan hadn’t failed her. They’d saved her and if she could trust anybody, it’d be them.
“You have magic, strong magic and gifts that you can hone for good. Morgan and I have been discussing this and we’ve been thinking about taking on our first apprentice for some time,” said Hattie.
Morgan reached over and gently took Rowena’s hand. “We’d like you to be that first apprentice, Rowena. It would mean that we would train you, help you hone your talents, provide you with food and lodging until you are ready to set out on your own.”
“Normally, apprentice mages are enrolled as part of the mage order for a number of years and serve on missions during and after they graduate. However, our offer comes with no strings attached. You’d be free to leave and live a good life once you are ready.”
Rowena stared at Morgan and Hattie, her head turning back and forth as she took in the eager smiles of both women. She looked across the table to Frances, who was wiping a tear from the corner of her eye and giving her the same smile.
Just a week ago, she’d been Rowena the slave, the dog on a leash, and had always wondered if one day Sylva would just decide not to end the spell.
If she accepted, she’d be Rowena, the apprentice to the students of Archmage Frances Stormcaller, two powerful mages in their own right.
“This isn’t a dream, is it? I’m not going to wake up, and still be Sylva’s slave, am I?” Rowena whispered.
“This is really happening, Rowena. I know it’s hard to believe, and it will be hard to believe in the days to come, but you are free, and Hattie and Morgan do want to be your masters,” said Frances.
Tears were filling Rowena’s eyes. She didn’t even know why but her voice was choking up. “I… But why me? There have to be hundreds of kids who have talent and—I…what? Why me?”
Morgan pursed her lips before glancing at Frances. “Mom, do you mind leaving us for a moment?”
“Of course. Take as long as you need. I’ll deal with the cleanup from Sylva’s mess,” said Frances. She gave Rowena a wave before strolling out the door.
Once she’d done that, Hattie quickly waved her staff at the door and sung a note. “Soundproofing spell.”
“Very wise,” said Morgan. She leaned down so she was at Rowena’s eye level. “Rowena, there are a couple of reasons we chose you, least of all your special visions.”
“Least of all? But wouldn’t that be the most important reason?”
“It is an important reason. For one, only we know of your abilities and I don’t believe you want to tell more people just yet. That means if you’re to practise your abilities and experiment with them, it’ll have to be with us,” said Hattie.
“But that’s also not why we want you to be our apprentice. You could still have trained with us separately at the School. We could have recommended with your blessing, someone who knows more about complex gifts and abilities. We could even have discussed with you about letting Frances know,” said Morgan.
“Then why take me on as an apprentice at all?” Rowena asked.
Hattie steepled her fingers. “Part of it is that as powerful mages with reputations, we’ve been facing a lot of pressure to choose an apprentice. I’m a high ranking member of the White Order. Morgan is a Princess of Alavaria. Many nobles want their child to become our apprentice and that has led to some awkward situations. Choosing you would solve that because of what you did here in Kwent, of your own volition. You’d have won your apprenticeship by your own merit.”
Stolen novel; please report.
Rowena nodded. These were all quite rational reasons. Yet there was a hesitation in Hattie’s gestures and voice, as if she was not quite telling everything.
“So, why me then?”
Hattie opened her mouth. Her lips twisted, word forming but unable to be voiced. Letting out a sigh she glanced at Morgan who gave a nod.
“When you looked at the past, Rowena, did you see anything about the Great War?” the harpy-troll asked.
Rowena nodded. “Yes, Lady Sylva wanted me to learn her version of the war, but I wanted to see things for myself, like King Jerome and Queen Forowena’s charge at Kairon Aoun. Frances beating Thorgoth, the ‘Demon King.’ The battle for Erisdale City.”
“Then you might be aware that although we won that war, it continues to affect people today. Frances killed Hattie’s father, and a human mob killed her human mother. My father died in a plot orchestrated by King Thorgoth and I was imprisoned and experimented on by Erisdalian Rebels.” Morgan clutched her hand at her chest, grimacing slightly. “Years ago, Hattie and I agreed that if we were to take on an apprentice, it would need to be a child who’d benefit from our experiences, and we know that you would.”
Rowena’s soup had gone cold at this point, but she was too stunned to take another bite anyway. The Stormcaller had killed Hattie’s father? Morgan had been a prisoner? She’d never heard of this.
Though that explained how the two women seemed to be able to read her thoughts at times. How they never seemed to quite believe the mask that she’d worn.
“Finally, and most importantly there’s you. You’re brave and intelligent,” said Morgan.
Rowena shook her head, ripping her single eye from Morgan to look at Hattie, but she had the same smile.
“You have a good heart and the determination to do the right thing in spite of your own doubts and in defiance of everything you’ve been through,” Hattie said, kneeling beside her. “For these reasons, we both want you to be our first apprentice.”
Half of Rowena, as if split cleanly down her nose, felt like leaping up in her chair with joy, and yet, her other half, frantically clung to her chair. Her only seeing eye jumping between the two women as her head swivelled.
“Rowena? Are you alright?” Morgan asked, shuffling backward.
The young girl wiped her eyes and nodded. “Yes. I think so. And yes, I would love to be your apprentice. I just don’t know if I really am the things you say I am.”
Morgan and Hattie exchanged a glance and a look. Both signalling the other to speak. Finally, Hattie gently took Rowena’s hand. “It’s fine not to know for sure, Rowena. What we can do is to help you become someone that you’re happy being. If that’s alright with you?”
Rowena nodded. There was no glass thread holding her together any more. No need to wear a cold, polite mask, just the smiles of her two new teachers and the promise of a new future.
“Yes. That would be amazing,” Rowena croaked, lips aching from how widely she was smiling, and how happy she felt.
***
There was quite a bit of paperwork. Rowena needed new identification papers, a new wardrobe, pack, and a new wand among other things.
Soon enough, however, she was getting into a carriage with Morgan and Hattie bound for Athelda-Aoun from Kwent.
And of all the people to see them off, was Archmage Frances herself with a small bag and a beaming smile.
“Morgan and Hattie’s gift to you is your apprenticeship. Mine however, is a monthly stipend until you turn of age to leave their care.” Frances pressed the heavy pouch into Rowena’s hands and closed the shaking fingers over it.
“I can’t accept this, Master Frances. This is too much!” Rowena stammered. She could tell how much this was from the weight of the bag and the glint of gold within.
Frances giggled. “Too much for who? I draw this from a scholarship fund set up for children like you. Those that used the fund later contributed to it when they came of age and started to make their way in the world. It costs me very little to maintain it. Besides, two very good friends of mine have made a contribution to the fund recently and demanded I give you a larger than usual stipend.” At Rowena’s blank stare, Frances smiled. “Yes, Martin and Ginger insisted I provide you with a larger than usual stipend, and you’ll need it. You’ll need to decorate your room at Respite.”
Stammering, Rowena turned to Morgan and Hattie who were both exchanging a knowing look.
“Rowena, if you really aren’t sure what to do with your stipend, you can give the remainder to us and we’ll set it aside for you, or help you purchase some necessary items needed for your education. Such as, magical equipment, books and other things,” said Hattie.
“Yes please,” said Rowena.
“Excellent.” Frances stepped back and helped Rowena up onto the carriage. “Have a safe trip, and don’t worry about the mess here in Kwent. I’ll have it sorted in a week or two.”
“Thanks mom,” said Morgan. She clasped Frances’ hand briefly before shutting the door. The three waved out of the window as the carriage pulled away, the archmage’s already small form growing smaller as the wheels of their vehicle trundled over the road’s flagstones.
Morgan yawned and reached down underneath her seat. “It’ll take a few days to get to Athelda-Aoun. Now, I need a nap. Would you like something to read, Rowena?”
“Um, something about wands, but I have a question first.”
“Go on,” said Morgan.
“Why did Sylva go to the safe house? She seemed surprised to find me there,” said Rowena.
Hattie softly tapped her forehead. “Oh, right, we were supposed to tell you that. It was some really bad luck. Sylva had no idea you were there. She was just trying to hurt Morgan to get revenge on Frances and also for her master, who was killed by Ayax, Frances’ cousin.”
“Why… but why? She had a plan. She had no reason to think it wouldn’t work. Why go after Morgan?” Rowena asked.
“From what I can tell from the mages and other conspirators we captured, when you escaped, she suspected her plan wasn’t going to go the way she thought. Instead of just relying on the fire, she wanted to provoke Morgan to react whilst using the fires to separate her from Hattie. Not everybody agreed with her, and so she attacked the safe house alone,” said Hattie.
Rowena blinked. “That sounds crazy.”
“It was not a particularly smart move,” said Morgan. From under her seat she pulled out a book. “Speaking of books, how about A New Guide to Sentient Magical Objects?”
***
The journey was smooth, but somewhat boring, and Rowena had finished A New Guide to Sentient Magical Objects, and had started Countess Mara’s History of the Great War by the third day of travel.
She’d needed to light a lantern whilst in the carriage. For the outside was not too brightly lit and what light did make it through the carriage windows was colored a shade of luscious green.
The road that ran from Kwent to Alavaria was known as the Greenway, or sometimes the Great Greenway. Built centuries ago by the long-collapsed Goblin Empire, the underground highway was one of the ancient marvels of their world. It reduced the travel time from Erisdale to the Kingdom of Alavaria from a month and a half to a mere week and a half. The reason why it was called the Greenway lay in what clambered over the carved walls of the tunnel. A myriad of mosses and vines that grew to freshen the air and gave the tunnel its verdant hue. The vegetation was watered by channels cut in the ventilation ports.
Every so often, Rowena would glance out of her window and marvel at her spectacle, often catching sight of the carved stones that marked the distances. How many had travelled on this road before her? How long had it taken to build it?
Hold on. That wasn’t the wall of the Greenway anymore. The tunnel had narrowed. They passed an opened door, and then another.
Glancing out of the window, Morgan glanced at a stone and straightened. “Rowena, we’re here. Want to take a look?”
“Take a look? You mean step out of the carriage?” Rowena asked.
“Yes, but I mostly mean do you want to fly,” said Morgan.
“I mean, is it safe?” Rowena asked.
Hattie chuckled. “I’ll come along.” She rapped the carriage door. “Cliffston! Continue onto the School with our things. We’re going to show Rowena around.”
“Yes ma’am,” said their human driver.
Morgan and Hattie opened the carriage. Cliffston had slowed for them to hop onto the ground and start walking to the city.
Rowena had just waved their driver away when she stopped.
Stretching far above the Greenway’s roof, supported by massive columns of roughly carved stone, was the ceiling of the city of Athelda-Aoun. Light streamed through a great crevasse in the roof’s ceiling, from where Rowena could see climbing vines dangling from.
Morgan’s toned arms wrapped around Rowena’s waist. “Alright. Ready?”
“Um, yes. Wait—Oh!” Rowena shrieked just a little as Morgan lifted off, taking her higher and higher. The wind whipped her braid up and down, and she had to shield her eye for a moment as the harpy-troll soared above the houses and buildings. Hattie was not far behind.
Many of these structures were ancient, dating to the Goblin Empire. Their architecture tended to feature squat two-story buildings with courtyards housing multiple families. Yet, Rowena could see many of these had been renovated. The new brick and plaster reinforcing old clay and mud-brick dwellings.
The high noon sunlight fell upon the river in the centre of the city, a shimmering river, shining like crystal snaked between low buildings. Interspersed between the entrances to canals that ran through the city were sandy beaches. As they flew over the river, following it towards the city centre, Rowena spied a large open-air market filled with stalls and lined with shops. Benches, and even a designated sandy play area for children interspersed the stalls. Flying above the market complex, on the walls of what looked like a blocky looking building, were hundreds of upturned flags.
“What are those?” Rowena asked, pointing at the banners.
“Banners that the Lightning Battalion captured. They hang from the main city hall and the administrative offices as a sign of comfort to our residents, and a warning to our enemies. You’ve heard of the Lightning Battalion have you?” Morgan asked.
“They’re the White Order’s non-magical military, right?” Rowena asked.
“Kind of. Originally they were the regiment led by my mother and Aunt Elizabeth. Now, they do support White Order mages in military operations, but they primarily serve as the order’s quick response force and guards for mages. They also protect this city and the school, which speaking of.” Morgan pointed to a walled sprawling group of buildings. Squat towers marked the corners and gates of an eclectic collection of structures. They ranged from squat mud-brick Goblin Empire era buildings, along with more modern red brick, stone or wood-framed buildings.
Only three distinguishing buildings rose above this mosaic of architectural styles. A very large three-storey round building with several double-hinged doors, from which Rowena could smell food. Between numerous arched windows, a number of alcoves were carved into the walls of this circular structure, from which Rowena could see a number were filled with statues.
The second was an open-air auditorium with stone seating that looked down onto a central stage. A flag flew from the top of the building, emblazoned with the school’s coat of arms, which was far too complex for Rowena to make out at the distance. She did see a wand crossed by a kitchen knife at the centre of the shield.
They alighted in the centre of the third building, which was only possible due to the courtyard garden in the centre. Fruit trees or orange and apples grew amidst watered flowerbeds and shrubs, whilst gravel paths snaked between them. Enclosing this garden were three-story limestone walls festooned with balconies and glass windows. Amidst the benches carved from wood, Alavari and humans went about their day, many with books in hand.
“Welcome to the Athelda-Aoun Library, the heart of The School of Magic and Mundane. Is it everything you expected?” Hattie asked.
Rowena spun around, eyes taking in the sight.
“Yeah, yeah it is,” she said, with a giant grin.