"How should I address you, Sir?" Ledas inquired of the man.

"Sir is fine. You will learn more if I find that it's important. I am from the hiring department, as you may have guessed." Ledas lampooned that the swordsman was definitely not from the 'hiring department', but intuition told him not to fuck around or push his luck in front of the "Sir" under any circumstances.

"Where should I start from?" Ledas inquired.

"Go reverse chronology, or chronological, I don't care," the swordsman stood up from the end of the table and took a seat in the chair intended for the future head of the association.

"We got to Tigranakert with the troupe around 3 months ago. We needed a place to stay for the winter, and it was the closest big city. We performed in different taverns, and by this time should have already left, because our show yielded less and less profit."

"I don't need economic details," the swordsman cut him short.

"Uh, sure. For the last three years, I have been traveling with the same vagabond troupe. We have been from the Eastern parts of the empire to the border towns in the north of Partha and trade towns in the south of Darbin. We entered the lands of Arshakion about half a year ago."

"And when did you learn magic during that time?" The swordsman looked with apathy.

"Books, sire. I had a small collection with me for the first couple of years but had to separate from them when we got attacked on the road and had to flee."

"So you're saying that some rabble took your possessions despite you being a mage?" The swordsman's eyebrow was raised.

"I don't know how to fight properly. I have been in bar fights, but not against armed people. I might be a quick rune caster, but not faster than a slash of a sword or a dagger thrown." Ledas was honest; he just hoped that the swordsman would not try to test it.

"Well, that's something that can be amended. Proceed." The swordsman didn't test Ledas' words.

"Before I met the troupe, I was traveling with my father for as long as I could remember. He was the one who applied the golden runes on me and taught me spells." Ledas channeled his magic into his runes to make them glow.

"Were you traveling somewhere specific? Did he mention why he was teaching you magic? Or anything of possible interest? Anyone you should avoid or who was he working for?"

"We frequented ruins, where he would usually find nothing, but sometimes something he later sold. Usually, we stayed in villages and hamlets, never being in one place for more than a day. He always told me to avoid the Mage's Guild and that I had a specific calling he never disclosed, though he never mentioned any allies." Ledas skipped a couple of important details, but they were not something the interrogator directly asked him.

“One last thing. You were invoking the Mother of Mercy without being a priest, how many of the granted spells can you invoke?” This was a trick question, Ledas knew that invoking a deity was a privilege of a priest, and by any means using it without a position was frowned upon.

“I can preserve life, suppress pain, and stitch minor wounds. Am I in trouble?” Ledas felt as if his heart was about to leave his chest.

“Yes, it's frowned upon using arcane while invoking the name of a god, as it might anger the god,” the swordsman grinned, “Your father told you how to do that?”

“No, father never even tried that. It was mentioned in an inscription on the walls of an ancient underground temple. But I did and it worked somehow.”

“So, you can heal only what apprentice priests can and you invoking the name of Mother of Mercy didn’t anger her. That’s good, the church was interested in you. But they told me that they won’t press claims if you don’t know how to invoke major gifts. It all adds up with what you said about avoiding the guild of mages. That's good."

"Why so, what adds up?" Ledas inquired.

"I was thinking whom your name reminds me of. There was a rogue rune mage some years ago. Master Alexander Sanders, son of the Archmage Ledas Sanders. He burned a mage's guildhall with everyone inside..." Before he could finish, Ledas stood up angrily.

"My father would never—" The swordsman didn't like being interrupted. His sword was next to Ledas' neck. Ledas hadn't seen the movement, just the blade at his neck slightly piercing his skin.

"Sit!" The commanding tone of the swordsman made Ledas obey the order. "And don't interrupt me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Ledas nodded as the sword was removed from his neck. The swordsman gave him a napkin, pointing at his neck.

"So, Zander, Alexander, Iskander. The same name. Rogue rune mage on the run. You probably are indeed adopted. He was a Southerner from Zarat; they rarely have blue eyes or ashen hair like you."

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Ledas sat confused, putting the napkin to his neck. He knew almost nothing about his father, who was very secretive about his past. He knew that they were running from something but never knew from what. It all made sense and made none at the same time.

This didn't answer the question, why would his father, who used violence as a last resort even if cornered by thugs, burn people alive indiscriminately? Ledas remembered his encounter with mages from the guild and thought, "Maybe he was justified, no, he was definitely justified. Guild mages were insane people, and my father was always kind to everyone."

"I believe I don't pass and should gather my things," Ledas stated trying to leave the room as quickly as possible before the mood of the man from the hiring department soured and he got arrested. His eyes look at the ground. He was the son of a fugitive and his apprentice, no one in his right mind would want someone like him. He stood up and grabbed his coat.

"Where are you going? Sit, they will soon bring the tea." His hand pointed at the chair, and unlike the previous time, this was clearly not an order, but an invitation. Ledas felt surprised and sat without a word.

"Take a couple of minutes to think. I see you are stressed. Don't be. As I said, this is a friendly conversation. First, the guild was burned in the southern parts of the Empire and we don’t send extradited people to them, and second, children don't pay for the crimes of their parents." The swordsman was calm and even supportive.

Ledas started to think.

"One: might he know what happened with father? Two: was I adopted? Three: is Ledas Sanders - my possible grandfather - still alive, and if yes, where?"

He noticed a servant entered the room when a cup of tea with a plate of cake was put in front of him.

"Help yourself." The swordsman smiled and started to eat his cake. Ledas chimed in.

The tea was warm and had a rich, relaxing smell with a slight bitterness balanced by the sweet cake with mead and nuts.

"I have heard enough, ha-ha. Aside from your lack of combat training, you fit the job. The position of the court mage is empty." The swordsman laughed and grinned, while Ledas choked on his tea.

"Me? Why?" Ledas was surprised and confused. Why would someone offer him such a high stance after learning he was a son of a criminal and a vagabond?

"I was planning to interview the top five candidates, but this job has one main criterion: Loyalty, and you, without properly thinking, gave a hook on yourself which will never allow you to betray even if you want to." As Ledas still looked confused, he continued, "If you try to defect to the Mage's Guild or anywhere they operate, we will just release information on your heritage, and even if you somehow run away from us, you will be hunted to be made an example of."

"But I am sixteen, and not strong at all! Your previous court mage could have killed me in five seconds! Who even are you?" Ledas was now confused about the identity of the man in front of him.

"My name is irrelevant, but I am the Wraith, the head of Ashakion's secret police and intelligence. You can call it 'the Hiring Department'" Wraith was grinning as if he got a jackpot. Ledas, on the other hand, felt his hands shaking under the table. "Don't worry about age and power. For power, we have battle mages, and for age, it's something I am taking on myself."

"I agree, but under one condition." Ledas still didn't know how to react. He remembered his goal of learning who killed his friends and organized the attack on Tigranakert.

"Go ahead, what do you want?" Wraith sipped his tea.

"During the attack on Tigranakert, my friends were killed. I want to know who did it and help to enact revenge." Ledas looked into the eyes of the head of the secret police in front of him.

"Sure, I’ll give it for free. We currently believe that these were agents from the West. The Thalassian Empire, to be precise. Everyone who participated in the attack is dead. So if you were planning some revenge, it's too late. Unless you have means to defeat the Emperor, the strongest summoned hero of this age surrounded by the best bodyguards one can find." He was quite friendly for someone called "Wraith".

"They are all dead?" Ledas was surprised by the quick answer he got, and Wraith instantly understood his intention for asking the question.

"Yes, everyone who brought the beast and tried to use it as a distraction is dead. Now that this is out of the way, it’s time to sign the documents, but before that, we will need to change your made-up family name."

Ledas blinked twice. Then he realized, "Oh right, I said that I'd agree on a condition, and he immediately fulfilled it." Papers without his name were on the table. It was a contract, and it had the King's stamp on it. The head of the secret police looked at the new Court Mage with discerning eyes.

"Your salary will be six small gold pieces a month, or sixty silver drahms. Salaries are reviewed twice a year at the beginning and middle of each year: summer and winter solstice. You will be provided with accommodations inside the castle and most of your expenses will be covered. Your responsibilities will include maintaining certain magical devices and conducting undisclosed magical rituals. All that remains is your name and the signature." Wraith spoke fast, leaving Ledas no time to think or mentally maneuver.

"Are you sure?" Ledas asked him, not sure if he fit the role.

"Yes, if you are still not sure because the salary of your class of mage might quite soon get higher than that, I would like to remind you that earnest and loyal subjects of the king can get a premium with land and opportunity for their honest work. As I said when we began: your life might take a course you never thought possible."

"I was not asking about that," Ledas replied. Six gold pieces a month was a ridiculously high salary to him.

"I know. Ledas Runeward. I know." He stood up and put on his coat. "My time is up; I have duties. You have until tomorrow noon to decide. If you take the deal, bring the documents to the castle chancellery. If you don't: burn the paper. If I find it on the black market, I will take your innards out. Understood?"

Ledas nodded “And what about the Church?”

“Unless you openly provide healing for gold they won’t force you to join. Aren’t you a lucky bastard?”

Ledas looked at the paper as the shadow disappeared from his view. The doors and windows were still closed, so Ledas frantically looked around for a few seconds when he noticed the abnormality.

He grabbed the parchment and put it in his bag. He needed to talk with Olaf about this.