Olivander turned to see a familiar face coming towards them as the crowd split to make a path for the irate man.
“Who’s that?” Gregory asked.
“Giles Develie, a High Magus.”
“High Magus? What does that mean? A specialized class?”
“As you know, I used to be Arch-magus. That’s the —”
“Wait, really?” Gregory interrupted.
“If we could transform your dull wit into a weapon, you wouldn’t be able to cut your way through wet paper. Yes, I was Arch-magus, the highest magical position in our fair country,” Olivander said.
“Under me was a council of ten of my peers. Those are the High Magi. We all possess the same Magus class. It’s a requirement of the position. Giles and I never got along, and I’m afraid my...removal from the position provides a reason to bring out some of Giles' buried hostility.”
Giles Develie was a short man with a severe expression. He wore brown robes in a fine cut, made from soft and luxurious materials. They were a pale comparison to Olivander’s Nether-Shadow robes. Olivander regretted wearing them today. He didn’t want to show up the man in any way.
“What do you think you’re doing in my city, exile?” Giles asked.
“I believe I was exiled from the capital, Giles. I am free to move about the country on my own prerogative.”
“That’s High Magus to you,” Giles said.
Magic was gathering around the man. Olivander’s own connection to the Realm of Madness allowed him to see the power being pulled through by Giles.
“High Magus Giles. I respect your position, but I have done nothing wrong here. You’re not going to try to fight me, are you, High Magus?”
Giles stiffened almost imperceptibly. He had a choice, stop gathering power and make some excuse to leave, or call out Olivander and fight him.
Giles forcibly dissipated the power he had been pulling through reflexively. He had been gearing up for a fight. But Olivander hadn’t been the Arch-magus for fifteen years by accident, fighting him would be a mistake.
“You’re nothing, exile. Arch-magus Amegnon defeated you and cast you down himself. I have nothing to prove to you,” Giles said, making the flimsy excuse that Olivander expected.
It still stung, though. Amegnon had bested him quickly and easily, it was true. The Queen’s turn against him was still a bit of a mystery to Olivander. He was thrown out before getting a chance to speak with her. The real sting came from remembering how Amegnon had treated him. Like a stranger.
He had left the capital immediately, respecting the request from Amegnon as the victor of the duel between them. He had almost made a scene when they carried out the old, but literal, custom of throwing him out on his face.
Regardless of Amegnon’s might, Giles Develie was no match for Olivander, and he knew it.
“I am sorry for offending you with my presence, High Magus. It is my intention to make no trouble in the city. I am currently traveling as a simple mentor,” Olivander said.
Giles glanced at Gregory, and then down at Cooper, but dismissed them as quickly as he had considered them.
“The council will hear of your visit here, exile. We will see if stronger restrictions need to be put in place. Leave my city quickly, I won’t suffer you for long,” Giles said. He spun and left before Olivander had a chance to respond.
Olivander made a rude gesture at the man’s turned back and mumbled a word too quietly to hear. Giles was never one to pay attention when he was angry, and the tracking spell that Olivander cast with the gesture hit without fail.
Then Olivander sighed. One of the reasons he had gone to an out of the way place like Demering was to avoid situations like this.
“That was weird,” Gregory said. “He seemed like he was spoiling for a fight, but then just…gave up.”
“Afraid. I could smell it on him. Right after Olivander asked if he wanted to fight,” Cooper said, sniffing the air more. “Smells frustrated now. Dangerous.”
“I wish I could do that,” Gregory said, looking at Cooper.
“I can probably find someone to turn you into a dog. It would be a huge improvement,” Olivander said brightly. “But you’re right. He thought I would be cowed after my exile. He just wanted to show that he had power over me, on the off chance that someone actually recognized me.”
“How strong is he? Could you have beaten him?” Gregory asked.
“He’s a Magus. Being strong is a requirement. But yes, I could have beaten him without too much trouble. He is a very attack focused magician, while I have a well rounded skill set. He wouldn’t be able to punch through my wards before I buried a sword in his neck.”
The crowd was starting to pay attention to their little group more than Olivander wanted, so he got them going in the direction of the guild hall. He had to stop to ask for directions before leaving the market square. He thought he had been to Serin before, but he didn’t remember it well.
The guild hall they found was much bigger than the one in Demering. Two stories tall with the signature green tiled roof, it stood out from the surrounding buildings. The constant stream of people in and out set it apart as well.
“Welcome to a proper guild hall!” Olivander said as they entered the building. “There’s a common room down here, and a little shopping. They’ll sell basic adventuring equipment and potions. You two might want to consider some potions, but I don’t know that you need any gear right now. Need to get used to your current gear first.
“Upstairs is where we’ll find the contracts and other staff for turn-ins, or the skill requirement listings I was telling you about.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
They headed upstairs. Olivander walked out of the stairwell and froze.
“Oh, no,” he said.
“What’s wrong, Olivander?” Gregory asked, slipping by him. “Should we look at the contracts first? Or ask the clerk about the skill b—Wait! Is that Jeremy!?”
Gregory ran over to greet the man. Cooper gave Olivander an odd look as he moaned softly into his hands.
“Gregory! It’s good to see you! What a pleasant surprise running into you down here,” Jeremy said.
“What are you doing here? When did you get here? I feel like I just saw you in Demering.”
“Just arrived yesterday, thank you for asking. The guild likes to move us around from time to time. Keeps things interesting. I see you’re traveling with our very own, illustrious, platinum member! Mr. Olivander, good to see Gregory is keeping you safe!”
Olivander had moved forward after a couple nudges from Cooper, who just wanted him to stop blocking the stairs.
“Jeremy. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you,” Olivander said with a warm smile. “Because I’m not.”
“Don’t be mean, Olivander,” Gregory said. “Can you show us the skill books, Jeremy? My pal Cooper and I are trying to figure out what skills we want!”
Gregory and Cooper looked at a book together. Olivander was still close enough to hear Cooper’s mental question to Gregory.
“I don’t know how to read. Can you read this to me?”
“Wait, can’t you read status messages?”
“Yes.”
“But you can’t read a book?”
Cooper responded with a head tilt, and Gregory looked just as confused.
“Too many words,” he finally said.
“So you just don’t want to read?” Gregory asked.
“I’m a very good listener,” Cooper replied, laying down next to the counter.
While the pair were looking at skills, Olivander inspected the available contract postings affixed to a nearby board. He wanted one or two things to challenge his students. He recalled his conversation with Thorgar in front of the dungeon. If there really was a time of mana imbalance coming, they would need to be as strong as they could get.
“Oh, that is perfect!” he said to himself, pulling a notice off the board. “Oh, and this one. That should be fun.”
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WANTED: Ghost Howlers
A pack of ghost howlers has taken up residence in a local factory.
The factory is shut down until the infestation is taken care of.
WARNING:
* Ghost howlers are incorporeal creatures. Magic items or spells are required to defeat them.
Requirements:
* Copper Rank (2 Members+) or
* Iron Rank (1 Member+)
* Ability to harm incorporeal creatures
Reward: 20 Silver minus any damages to the factory (Assessed by a guild representative)
----------------------------------------
DELIVERY REQUEST: Strangleroot Vines
An apothecary in the city needs fifteen wild strangleroot vines.
The vines can be found upriver from Lake Serin, out into the western wilds.
Requirements: Copper Rank
Reward: 8 Silver
----------------------------------------
Olivander registered Cooper and Gregory for the contracts and pulled them aside.
“I’ve signed you both up for these two contracts. Given your experiences in the dungeon, you should have no problems with them, but pay attention to the contract details. Cooper, I can summon a magic blade for you so you can fight the Ghost Howlers. Gregory, your sword will have minimal effect unless you charge it with mana. I would focus on mastering your Mana Bolt for now. I’m going to give you two some time to enjoy the city. I’ll send word to you when I find a place for us to stay. Any questions?”
“What are you going to be doing?” Gregory asked.
“Preventing some future headaches. Also, shopping. Your sister does wonderful work, but only having three outfits is really starting to depress me.”
With that, he left them alone. They wanted to stay behind and study skills. He knew how exciting that was, and in a way, missed the studying and search for power.
Olivander had discovered that once he gained a certain level of experience and power, having a core set of abilities that were completely mastered was far better than finding the next greatest spell or ability. Although, given his grimoire, he might actually collect more new abilities now than he had before becoming powerful.
Olivander didn’t know the city’s layout, but the tracking spell he had put on Giles as the man left led him to the Develie estate without any problems.
The estate was essentially just a series of homes tucked inside a park, surrounded by a fence. Olivander could never understand why people hoarded land just to stop others from enjoying it. Across the street from the estate entrance was a block of stone homes and storefronts just like any other in the city, and Olivander found a narrow alley to duck into.
His grimoire appeared in his hand, glowing purple. He crafted a series of spells from rituals in his book, and soon was heading to the estate entrance, invisible and practically undetectable. Giles was a Magus, and any Magus was powerful, but the man had never been observant or careful. If Giles was actually paying attention, he would be able to see Olivander. It was a carefully considered risk. Olivander wasn’t threatened by the man, but he was here to listen, not to fight.
He made his way across the manicured lawn, kept pleasantly cool under the late afternoon sun by the shade from large trees that dotted the property. Getting into the house was simply a matter of making sure no one was around, and slipping through the door. No one in their right mind would try to break into, or rob, the house of a High Magus. Olivander considered that maybe he wasn’t quite in his right mind. He didn’t consider it long enough to turn around.
The house was exactly what he expected from Giles. Huge and ostentatious, it was a monument to his vanity and his superiority complex. The main entrance opened into a huge entry room with staircases wrapping either wall to the second level. There were marble floors and, as Olivander estimated, an unusually high number of stone busts. Servants bustled around, caught up in the bad mood of their master.
“What’s wrong, Penny?” a woman asked another who was holding a serving tray, entering from a nearby hallway. She shook slightly, ratling the dishes on the tray, and had tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Miss Brenda, Master Develie is in a sour mood, and I’m really not used to being yelled at. He said he didn’t want to be disturbed."
The older woman patted the back of the younger one, steering her away and whispering some comforting words. Olivander headed in the opposite direction, towards wherever the servant had come from.
It didn’t take him long to hear a frustrated voice talking through one of the doors a few rooms into the hallway. Olivander focused his senses on listening to the voice through the door.
“Is there nothing else we can do? The man is a blight. I don’t care how long he served the kingdom, he doesn’t get to just walk around unchecked.” Olivander thought that was Giles speaking, but the voice was muffled.
“Olivander is in Serin? Really? I thought he would have portaled down to Mardareth immediately,” Olivander heard a voice saying. It definitely wasn’t Giles, but it did sound familiar to him.
“It was him. I approached him in the market square, and he had the temerity to suggest that he was free to do as he wished outside the capital.”
“You met with one of the most skilled magicians in the world, and didn’t check yourself for any unfamiliar magical effects after leaving?”
Oh crap, Olivander thought a second before the door opened, revealing a man in deep black robes touched with golden accents around the edges. The man was tall and powerfully built. His eyes and bearing radiated strength and confidence.
“Why don’t you come in and chat, Olivander,” Arch-magus Amegnon said, stepping aside for the still invisible Olivander to enter.