“That was incredible!” Syl cried as he threw his arms around the two wizards. “I’ve seen bigger, more impressive magic being thrown around in my time, but not often. What would it have been like if you were trying to hurt each other?”

Wil panted, grateful to lean against Syl for support. He flashed Chinis a weary grin and said, “I would’ve been utterly destroyed. He’s tricky. He’s a master of curse breaking, and is specialized for anti-wizard fighting.”

“What can I say? I like being competitive and the only people I gotta worry about are other wizards,” said Chinis, fatigue slowing his drawl. “It’s more fun that way.”

Isom perked up. “I also hunt wizards for fun!” he said. “I wonder what I would get if I ate you.”

“The worst stomach ache of your life, kitty.”

The crowd met them at the stairs, and then it was all backslaps and praise. As much as Wil did enjoy recognition for his work, the show had left him tired enough to want a bit of peace and quiet. Climbing all the way up the stairs left him badly in need of some food and then maybe a good nap.

Because he was the star guest of the hour and paying for a round, Chinis pointed them over to the Manifee City corner while he talked with the bartender. Wil collapsed in the back, glad that his heart had stopped pounding and there wasn’t the headache that came from pushing too hard. Syl sat on his right, and Isom leapt up to the nook in the wall behind the seat, laying underneath a painted beach umbrella.

“Fae magic is so different,” said Syl, looking at all the wizards crowding the center island to get their free drink. “Not more or less powerful, but more subtle. You people are very direct and aggressive, but there’s beauty here too. It’s loud, garish, and obnoxious. It's something we would never make, and it’s so…human.”

Wil shook his head with a smile. “As always, Syl, you really know how to compliment a race. You’re right, though. Human magic is different, and it wasn’t always this strong. We’re developing at a rapid pace and there are more wizards coming into their gifts every year. There have been so many discoveries over the last century alone, borrowing what we’ve known from your people and…others.”

“Others? What others?”

“Well,” Wil wet his lips, trying to think of the least awful way to phrase it. “Aside from learning some things from your people, we’ve also made contact with devils and demons and the like. It’s how we’ve developed our runic and ritual magics, though we’re still starting out.”

Syl made a face. “Demons and devils. Bah. Everything they touch turns to rot. Have you ever made contact with one?”

“Absolutely not!” Wil was sick at the idea.

“Absolutely not, what?” Chinis asked as he came up with three drinks pressed up against his armor. He set them down on the table and passed them around before joining on Wil’s other side.

“I’ve absolutely not trafficked with demons or devils,” said Wil. “I’ve never needed to, for my magic.”

Chinis shrugged. “Your loss. You could gain a lot from a good contract or some instruction. But even past that, you’re stronger than you used to be. There’s no way the Wil I knew could’ve made the ground do that while spinning a dozen illusions. What happened?”

“I had a growth spurt,” Wil deadpanned.

“You sure you didn’t do a ritual to boost your strength? Maybe in exchange for your firstborn?” The mage took a sip of his beer. “Naw. What good would that do you, back on the farm?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Syl interjected, looking between them. “Wil takes care of Harper Valley, and you’re a fighter of some kind, here to guard us, right?”

“Ehhh,” Chinis wiggled his hand indecisively. “Guard you and keep an eye on you. I’m your babysitter, to make sure the two of you make it to Cloverton and don’t, you know, try to run. But if you’re asking what I do in general, I’m a bodyguard and rogue wizard hunter, for this city.”

“Those are two very different things,” Syl said. “The other representatives and I have been wondering what all you wizards are called to do. Is everyone assigned to a city or town to serve it? If not every human can do magic, what do the ones who can, do?”

“Okay, so.” Wil clapped his hands together. “There are different levels of wizards, based on their education and testing level, right? Adept is the first level, those who have learned to control their magic and not be a danger to themselves or others. They get whatever work they can, but aren’t going to be doing anything impressive.

“Next come apprentices, those who have received a basic, if not thorough education. It’s assumed that they’ll continue learning and gain more opportunities from there, but they…Well, they’re often apprentices to other working wizards, especially when it comes to crafting. They’re learning how they can apply their gifts to make a living and contribute to society.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Wil paused to take a drink of beer. Chinis looked half asleep, but Syl was riveted and Isom pretending to be asleep. Here in the Madhouse, he’d had the big conversations about what to do after he and his friends graduated again and again. It was so weird to be on the other side of things. He’d made it.

“Wizard is considered educated and licensed to work almost anywhere. From here you can go to government work or be hired by some of the bigger businesses. They’ll do things like provide security, ward and enchant buildings, spy on each other, things like that. Chinis and I knew one guy who got really into water science and pipes and went back east. Now he’s probably the greatest plumber in the world.”

“Oh yeah,” Chinis came to life, laughing. “Bob! Or David, I guess, but there were too many Davids, so we called him Bob. That guy loves infrastructure. Bet he’s making bank right now.”

“What about masters like you, Wil?” Syl pressed. “You came to Harper Valley, and at this point I’m pretty glad you did, but what else could you have done?”

Too many things. The disappointed looks of Wil’s professors still haunted him. No one had liked or supported his decision to go back home, but after the embarrassment of washing out of the mage program, his name was synonymous with wasted talent. Maybe things would be better, now that he had accomplished so much. If they didn’t rake him over the coals for it.

“Well, master wizards are prime candidates to be assigned to the overall welfare and health of a community,” said Wil, forcing a smile. “That’s what I chose. While I handled a lot of silly and petty requests, my job is technically to oversee the growth and prosperity of Harper Valley. Cloverton’s highly concerned with making sure there are enough resources and healthy candidates to protect the country from Illianto and Albetosia.”

“War,” said Syl, wrinkling his nose. He pointed at Chinis. “That’s what you’re for too, right? Mages are war wizards.”

“Yep,” Chinis confirmed, taking a long drink. “I haven’t been to the front, but I might sign up for a tour or two. It’s good money, and I got family there I could visit.”

The faun laughed bitterly. “Is there any part of your civilization that isn’t dedicated to being better at war?”

Wil held up his hands in surrender. “I hear you. That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing. I just want to help people. And I didn’t want to do it by hurting others or making war machines, like a lot of classmates did and do. I want to build things, and uplift people.”

Chinis shrugged. “And you’re gonna be making maybe a fraction of what everyone else does.”

It always came back to money. Wil was uncomfortable with how much he made, compared to the average person in Harper Valley. It was still peanuts compared to the opportunities he could’ve had.

“I don’t care,” Wil said, shrugging. “Too many of us focus on money and power.”

“Yeah,” said Chinis, “because with money and power, you got freedom.” There was none of the sleepy, half dazed demeanor. His eyes were open and focused sharply on Wil. This wasn’t the first time they’d had a conversation like this. “You get some money and power, and you can help people all you want.”

“He’s right,” Isom growled. “It’s the way of the world. The strong do what they want, and the weak stay out of their way.”

“Great,” Wil laughed, “you have a vicious predator agreeing with you. Just in case you’re wondering where your stance leaves you.” He thought of the mayor and friends, when he had turned them into toads. He’d given orders and threatened them, but that wasn’t normally how he did things. It had been necessary, right?

“That’s fine by me,” said Chinis, downing the rest of his drink. “Better a predator than prey. C’mon McKenzie, you’re a good guy, but you can be pushed around by basically anyone with a stronger will than you. You’d be truly powerful, if you weren’t too damned scared to embrace your power.

Neither of them said anything at first, just giving the other their best stink eye while Syl watched in interest. The worst part to Wil was the knowledge that his friend wasn’t even that ambitious. He didn’t go out of his way to gain power or wealth. He worked hard, but mostly Chinis enjoyed his privilege and comfort. He didn’t care about why.

The bartender came up to the table with three massive plates. On each were hunks of thinly cut steak on a bed of fries, covered in cheese, beans, and scallions. “Here we are,” he said. “The Manifee City treat, steak fries!”

“Where’s mine?” Isom demanded. The bartender froze.

“Ignore him, he can have some of mine,” Wil waved the man off. He grabbed a meaty, cheesy fry and took a bite. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned. “Gods, I missed this.”

Chinis chuckled and dug into his own. “They’re like half the reason I didn’t leave.” And just like that, the tension faded into the background, even when Chinis continued. “Look, I don’t mean anything bad. Just that you’re kinda odd and don’t understand how the world works.”

Wil chuckled, shaking his head. He tossed a hunk of steak at Isom, who snapped it out of the air with a loud chomp. “Yeah, as you’ve been saying for years.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive,” said Syl when silence threatened to ruin their sunny, cheery ambiance once more. “I’m a prince, and I’ve got power. I use that power well. Chasing power for power’s sake is bad, but if it’s in service to a good goal, and you’re not hurting people…is that so bad?”

A half dozen arguments came to mind, and it bothered Wil. He was out with a good friend who went out of his way to bring him here instead of just going on to the safe house. There was amazing food, passable beer, and good company. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore the itch.

“I’ve seen what power does to people,” said Wil. “Think of Hugo, and how it destroyed him. There was never enough for him to be satisfied. That’s the problem with power and wealth. You get used to being above people, and that gets comfortable. That’s what I don’t want, even if I know it’s not possible. I just don’t want to be above anyone else.”

Wil understood how useful power was. It had been the only way to get things done at the end of his last crisis, and now he had time enough to regret it and question himself.

Chinis chewed his steak fries thoughtfully. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have become a master wizard, McKenzie. Power is part of who you are. You can’t run from yourself forever. Gotta make peace with that eventually.”

That, more than the food, gave Wil something to chew over.