Leisa put another riding dress into her saddle bag. Sorela was already waiting at the stables. She looked at her slender sword on the bed. She couldn’t tell it had been forged again since her time in the Blackwood.

She wouldn’t need it in the Hall, but it would be a reminder of her bravery and perserverance, Sorela had told her.

Leisa smiled. Lady Casen would be her mistress, assuming Sorela was granted permission by the Elders. Sorela had assured her that she would not be turned away.

She finished packing and made for the stables.

Unfortunately High Lord Nightkar’s war still raged with the Soles, but now meaningful talk of peaceful resolutions—with the Hall interceding, was beginning to take place. Perhaps both sides were tired of fighting. At the very least, Lord Nightkar wanted to end hostilities so he could launch his invasion against the Dar’nithie.

She entered the stable. “I’m ready, lady mage.”

Sorela turned, smiled. If the Hall allows me to train you—which they will—Leisa, you must call me ‘Mistress’ from now on.

Leisa bowed the way she had been shown by the older woman—the way apprentice differed to Mistress or Master.

They rode from the stables and out of the castle grounds where Falan and Serin were milling about. “What are you still doing here?” Leisa asked. “I thought you’d left for Valamor already.”

Falan shrugged. “I only wanted to say farewell before we left.” He kicked his horse closer, leaned over, and embraced her with one arm.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Leisa smiled as she embraced the Serafe as well.

Wheeling his horse back around, he said, “Well, we go south.”

“And we go west,” Leisa said.

Falan smiled, bowed politely. “Farewell, fair ladies.”

Sorela nodded to the two Serafes, and to Leisa’s surprise, she realized Sorela’s prolonged eye contact with Falan.

Serin flicked a telling look toward them. Togther, Leisa and Serin wheeled their horses in their respective directions.

Sorela followed eventually, and Liesa turned to give one last wave, feeling a bit forelorn as she watched the two Serafes disappear behind the hill.

“Perhaps you will see them again one day,” Sorela said. Mages are not slaves to the Hall.”

Yes, Leisa thought, nodding to herself. Perhaps I will council a lord in Valamor. After she completed her training, of course.

“Perhaps we may even see Naikal. I am a leading authority on the Blackwood now, after all. There is much to tell, and to discuss about that fell place.”

Liesa nodded, feeling no fear of such a proposition.

She gave one last look to Castle Warfink, hoping all the best for Jalen, and knowing he had a long journey ahead of him before he would be fully recovered.

“Let’s go, child,” Sorela said.

It hadn’t escaped Liesa there there was a new fondness from Sorela ever since their time in the Blackwood. And another kind of sterness as well.

“It’s time to make a mage of you.”

Liesa nodded, and regarded the other woman with what was probably a stupid-looking smile on her face. She fancies him!

“What is it?” the mage asked amidts the soothing clop of the horses’ hooves.

“Nothing, Mistress.”

Sorela stared at her for a moment, her face taking on some minisculre recognition, then dropped to sternness. “Silence.”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

“I know your thoughts.”

Liesa’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “I knew you could read minds!”

“No!” Sorela stressed indignantly. “I can see it on your silly face!”

She did all she could to stifle her laughter, and she saw Sorela’s barely perceptible smirk from the corner of her eye as well.