The town lay far to the south, a considerable amount of time to travel by foot or horse without a portal available to traverse the realm. Passing through the portal felt similar to the experience earlier, though less intense. A gentle sensation, like a magnetic pull drew Ardwyn to the other side.

One by one, the students stepped out of the portal. The professor exited last, making sure no one was left behind. In the next instant, the portal automatically contracted and shut beside her, dissolving into thin air.

They emerged on a grassy hill overlooking the town. From the height of the hill, Ardwyn spotted the meadow on the far opposite side, where he had been first transported into the world.

The day reminded Ardwyn of his first arrival. A warm, yellow sun hung high in the sky. It must have been somewhere around noon by now. A cool breeze swept across the field, swaying the green grass and scattered wildflowers. If he hadn’t known better, Ardwyn would have assumed this was Earth, although the colors were slightly more vibrant and saturated.

“Here we are,” the professor said after walking to the front of the class, “Is everyone okay? Any signs of nausea or dizziness?”

Ardwyn felt fine. He looked around. No one else seemed bothered by the teleportation.

“Good,” the professor said. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Well, let’s get started. I want to provide some context before we proceed.”

Behind her, a steady plum of smoke rose from the town in the far distance beyond the green hill.

“We’re currently in the realm of Aerolia. It’s a land with ancient roots and a complex history. The townspeople mostly subsist on farming and trading. While they are familiar with magic, some view arcane arts with suspicion due to a lack of understanding. The matter of the fact is that many years ago the town was saved from dragons by mages so they celebrate the occasion despite any personal reservations.” She looked around the group of students. “Any questions so far?”

No one said anything. A few nods.

“Okay, don’t be shy. If you have questions, just ask,” she said.

A student raised his hand. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Professor, you mentioned dragons,” the student said. Ardwyn recognized her as the student with the auburn colored hair from the first class in the auditorium. “Are they common in this realm? Will we see any?”

“Dragons are quite rare in this region, and they avoid populated areas. The incident with the dragon attacking the town was unusual, so it’s unlikely.”

She paused. “Any other questions?”

Most in the group shook their hands.

Ardwyn on the other hand felt like he had many questions he wanted to ask. But he held back.

The professor continued, “Now, as we enter the town, I want each of you to remember that you’re representing the Academy. Be respectful to the townspeople, and report anything unusual or out of the ordinary to me immediately. The festival is a perfect opportunity to see how magic and mundane life intersect in Aerolia. Your primary assignment is to observe. We’ll discuss your findings when we return to the Academy.”

The class descended down the slope of the grassy hill. A few trees dotted the landscape but beyond stretched a mostly flat plain. A dirt road wound around the hill, leading to the town gates.

When the group arrived, they found the town bustling with activity. Crowds packed the streets, while merchants and vendors filled the market square, selling everything from glowing potions to rare trinkets. Colorful banners and flags hung from the buildings, fluttering in the warm breeze.

As they moved through the town in their distinctive mage robes, the group drew attention. Some curious passerby stopped to ask where they were from, while others recognized them as Academy mages.

Ardwyn felt a new sense of belonging, unlike anything he had known before. In the past, he was used to being alone. He never identified with any cliques at his old school and had a natural predisposition to resist and question authority, whether it came from other peers or students. While not a natural troublemaker or needlessly aggressive, something in him wanted to find his own path rather than imitate others.

Here, as part of the uniformly dressed group of students, part of him resisted being categorized and conforming, yet another part suddenly felt at peace. He could let go of the constant mental strain he always carried to prove himself.

“Ardwyn!” A voice called his name breaking him from his thoughts. “Remember me? What are you doing here?”

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It was the potion merchant Ardwyn had met during his earlier visit to town. Despite being busy with a line of customers at his stall and haggling over the price of a potion, the merchant still turned his attention to Ardwyn. Being at the back of the group, only a few students noticed the exchange. Flynn, however, stopped to notice.

“Who’s that?” Flynn asked.

“Just someone I met during my first visit to town,” Ardwyn replied, keeping his voice low.

The potion merchant, still juggling several customers, waved enthusiastically at Ardwyn. Meanwhile, the rest of the class continued walking.

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” Ardwyn said to Flynn.

“Ardwyn, over here!” the potion merchant called again.

“Umm,” Flynn said. “We should probably stick with the group.”

Ardwyn looked towards the professor and the rest of the group, who were slowly moving ahead through the crowded marketplace. He didn’t want to fall behind or draw too much attention to himself.

“It’s okay, I’ll just be a minute,” Ardwyn said.

Flynn said, “Then I’m coming with you.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Oh come on, where’s your sense of adventure? We’re here to observe and learn, right? What better way than talk to a local?”

Before Ardwyn could protest further, Flynn was already weaving through the crowd towards the merchant’s stall, weaving through the crowd. Reluctantly, Ardwyn followed.

When they approached the potion merchant greeted them warmly, “I see you brought a friend. Welcome, welcome!” He then returned to his customer, handing over a small bottle of green liquid. “There you go, sir. Use it wisely!”

Once the customer left, the merchant lowered his voice and said in a hushed tone to Ardwyn, “I see that you are a mage now.”

Before Ardwyn could respond, Flynn stepped forward and announced proudly, “This is our first year at the Academy.”

“Is that so?” the potion merchant said with a twinkle in his eye. “And what brings you to visit our town?”

“We’re here to observe,” Flynn said, and then he added, “and to protect the town from any dragons.”

“Dragons?” the potion merchant’s eyebrows shot up. “Is the town in danger of a dragon attack?”

“Not sure, but we’re on watch,” Flynn said with a shrug, and looked up at the skies. He was enjoying his new status as a mage.

“You know,” the potion merchant said, “it’s been fifty years since a dragon attacked the town. I was just a little boy back then. I still remember the chaos and fear that gripped the town that day. For some reason, I especially remember the dragon’s massive wings, and the roar of the dragon, which seemed to shake the roof of our house.”

“What happened then?” Flynn asked. “How did the mages defeat the dragon?”

Ardwyn looked around, suddenly realizing the rest of their class was no longer in sight.

“I was just a young lad back then. But from what I was told, the mages didn’t kill the dragon. Instead they banished the dragon to another realm through a portal.” The potion merchant scratched his head. “To be honest, it was so long ago that hardly anyone can remember the details. It’s become more of a legend at this point.”

“I see,” Flynn nodded. “Well, what are you selling here?”

The merchant perked up, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “Potions of all types. Healing potions, mana potions, regenerative potions. My potions are some of the best in town. I’ve just acquired a new stock that can regenerate mana up to 25% faster than any competitor’s in town. Might I interest you in some?”

“No, thanks,” Flynn said. “Maybe next time.”

“Very well then,” the merchant said, his tone turning melancholy, as he lost interest in the potential sale.

Ardwyn, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“Do you remember the Ethereal Blossoms I brought by last time? I was wondering if you knew where the herbalist stand is, the one that gave them to me? I can’t seem to find it now.”

The potion merchant thought for a moment. “I do remember you coming by with the Ethereal Blossoms, and I was quite surprised that someone had given them to you. But I’m not familiar with any herbalist stand.” He paused, then added, “However, up ahead in the market square, you can find a man in a blue robe. He’s the town warden who organizes events. He might be able to help you since he knows all the merchants here.”

The merchant’s eyes shifted back to the stand, searching for new potential customers. He lost interest in them now that a sale seemed unlikely.

They found the town warden at the front of the market square as the potion merchant had said. The town warden sat behind a wooden table, surrounded by stacks of scrolls and jars filled with rolled papyrus. Before him, a merchant was busily writing with quill on a parchment, registering for a market stand.

“Yes?” the town warden said on noticing them, looking up from his work. “How may I help you, young mages?”

Ardwyn had almost forgotten that he was wearing the mage robe.

The town warden was an older man with graying hair, and a face with a day or two’s worth of white stubble. He scratched his chin as he spoke, sticking out his crooked jaw to the side, which seemed to help him think.

Ardwyn spoke, “We’re looking for a specific herbalist stand. I visited it last time I was in town, but now I can’t find it. Could you help us locate it?”

The town warden narrowed his brow. “Hmm,” he said, “A herbalist stand?”

Ardwyn nodded.

“When did you say you last visited town?”

“Not long ago. Last week.”

The town warden looked down at his parchment. “Excuse me,” he said to the other merchant. “Just a moment, please.” The other merchant stepped aside, seeming unhurried and content to wait.

“Right,” the town warden continued, “let’s see here, a herbalist stand.” He paged through the parchment, scanning his records. “No, I didn’t think so. We haven’t had a herbalist merchant stand here at the market, at least not recently. Are you certain it was a herbalist stand?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Ardwyn said. “There were flowers, plants of all kinds in pots —“

“Look,” the town warden said, “I can assure you that if there was a herbalist stand, I’d be the first to know. All merchants are required to register with the town warden, and that’s me.”

“It was right there,” Ardwyn said pointing to the side. “Around the corner of the market square.”

The town warden stuck his jaw out to the side, scratching his chin. “I don’t mean to question your memory, but is it possible you’re confusing this market with another?”

“No,” Ardwyn said, “it was definitely this same market.”

The town warden leaned forward and clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on the table. “Look, I’ve been the town warden for two decades. I know every merchant, every stand, and every peddler that’s ever set up shop in this market. And I can tell you this with absolute certainty: there has never been a herbalist stand in this town square.”