I was wandering around the career fair when a mage approached me. The mage was taller than I was by only a few inches, making him rather short, and he was dressed in a sharply tailored suit.

His skin was a shade or two darker than mine, but not by much. He was probably a fellow Mossford native, and unlike my brother, not one that saw the sun much.

The middle-aged man had dark hair that was only beginning to show streaks of silvery white, and he smiled genially as I nodded to him.

“Hello, Malachi,” the man said. “My name is Orykson. I wanted to discuss an opportunity with you. Would you mind speaking to me in my office about it?”

He had an office here? That was strange. Maybe he wanted me to go to school here, or something like that.

I’d done pretty poorly in school when it came to the memorization stuff, but I was good with mana, so maybe that had redeemed me some? A lot of guilds didn’t care about what your history class scores were, as long as your spellcasting was up to snuff.

“Sure,” I responded.

This was a job fair, after all. It was a bit strange, but it was hardly concerning.

The man nodded and flicked his fingers.

A portal tore open in space next to him. On the other side was a richly appointed sitting room, with thick red and purple carpets and plush brown leather chairs.

My eyes widened. Portal spells were powerful stuff. Even the weakest of them required you to be an Arcanist.

It also raised my mental alarms a lot more, and I took a half a step back.

“How will I get back?” I asked.

Orykson seemed to consider for a moment, then he gave me an approving nod and the portal shifted. Now, instead of looking out onto a private office space, it looked out onto a café. A few customers gave the portal a curious look.

“This is a café I frequent,” Orykson explained. “It’s on the corner of Fifth and Eighth.”

I relaxed a bit at that. That was a mile or two away from the bakery, but it wasn’t so far that I’d have to take a carriage back to the college. I actually thought I’d seen the café before, though I’d never visited it.

Plus, more importantly, it was a public location, and had other people.

“Alright,” I said, and stepped through the portal.

Orykson stepped through a moment later, and the portal snapped shut behind him.

“Hello there, Orykson!” one of the baristas, a tall woman with long blonde hair, greeted us. “Usual for you today? Who’s the friend?”

“Yes, please,” Orykson said. “And he’s someone I’m giving a job interview to.”

He turned to me a moment later.

“What would you like?”

“Just some coffee. Iced, if you can,” I responded uncertainly. The barista nodded and went to work on our order while Orykson took a seat at one of the tables and gestured for me to sit next to him.

I glanced at the door, just to reassure myself, before I turned my attention back to Orykson, dusted the crumbs off my chair, and sat.

“So, what is this about?” I asked.

“Exactly what I told our young barista over there. I’m here to offer you some work.”

I shifted in my chair as Orykson slowly raked his eyes over me, then steepled his fingers together.

“Malachi. You’re wearing a suit about three sizes too large for you - clearly something that you’re not entirely comfortable in. It has mild staining. That’s incongruous with your apparent fastidiousness. You instantly selected life and death mana, which happens to be rather interesting to me.”

I felt a jolt of annoyance run through me at that. I hadn’t come here to be insulted. Besides, suits were expensive, and it wasn’t like I’d had the money to purchase one of my own. My work at the bakery didn’t pay much, and I’d spent a lot of it on changing out my wardrobe for everyday wear.

“I’m going to guess you took that suit from your father or elder brother. Is that correct?” Orykson continued.

“Older brother,” I confirmed.

Orykson tsked.

“That won’t do at all. Every man needs at least five good suits. In my opinion, it’s actually closer to ten, but that’s a tangential point at best.”

I stared at Orykson, confused.

“Why would you bring me here to criticize my clothing?” I asked.

At least Orykson had done it in a… weirdly positive way? It was still negative, but it was better than the terrible jokes that Liz’s dad had made about my clothes.

“Ah, I suppose I didn’t tell you that, did I?”

He flicked his fingers and our drinks appeared on the table, having teleported from the counter where they’d been placed.

I took a wary sip of my drink. It tasted like a normal – if high quality – iced coffee.

“I’d like to ask you why you instantly chose life and death mana, first of all.”

“Is that really necessary?” I asked, bristling slightly. This was the second time someone had suggested it was a poor choice, after all.

“Quite necessary,” Orykson said. “I wasn’t lying to the barista. I am giving you a job interview.”

“What for?” I asked. “I haven’t heard of you before, and you didn’t introduce yourself as a member of a guild. The only magic I’ve seen you use is portal magic, which is Spatial mana. I didn’t choose Spatial mana.”

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“Nor will you have to,” Orykson said smoothly. “Though, I won’t lie - I hope you eventually will. Now, let’s head back to why you wanted those mana types?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

“I wanted to join the Wyldwatch or the Spiritwatch. Their operatives make more than a baker does, and they usually operate solo or in small groups.”

“The higher salary and enhanced privacy would give you space and time to transition,” Orykson commented, his tone neutral.

I paused for a moment, then reluctantly nodded.

I wasn’t sure exactly how Orykson had put it together this quickly. Maybe he had some sort of diagnostic spell, like a doctor, or some sort of magical item with a similar purpose.

That was a more comforting idea than that I didn’t pass, and a nasty part of the back of my head insisted that was a comforting lie I was telling myself, and that I didn’t pass at all.

“That was part of it. On top of that, I’ve always had an affinity for the forests and night. I was very invested in learning about spirits, undead, and monsters when I was in school. That whole aesthetic interested me.”

Orykson gave me a condescending smile, but nodded.

“I can hardly judge you for that. I had my moments in my youth as well. I’d like to offer you a better deal than what any of the three Watches could offer, however,” Orykson said.

I scrunched my eyebrows together and nodded for Orykson to keep speaking. He took a sip of coffee first, then he continued.

“I’m looking for an apprentice that meets certain parameters. A strong affinity for life and death, and access to at least one other type of mana. Spatial is preferred, but others are acceptable to varying degrees.”

“What’s the least acceptable?” I asked curiously.

“Desolation mana,” Orykson said disdainfully. “At least with the other major offensive types, like solar or tempest, there are multiple other spells to utilize the mana in other ways. Desolation is impossible to beat in terms of raw destruction, but in my experience, a bigger weapon is rarely the answer. The strongest mage in the world can lose to a smarter one.”

Liz had desolation mana, so I felt like I should be offended on her behalf. It was a powerful and destructive mana type, after all, and destruction had its uses.

Still, I couldn’t help but agree. Creation and desolation mana were an interesting pair, but they didn’t call to me in the same way as… really any of the other pairs of mana.

“Alright,” I said. “What would it entail?”

Orykson smiled and took another sip of his coffee.

“Your apprenticeship will have several phases. For the first phase, you’re going to learn plant magic on Solsdays from an… associate of mine. She’s a bit strange, but she’s harmless. On Telsday and Liday, I’ll have you working in a butcher’s shop at first.”

“A butcher’s shop?” I asked, confused. That didn’t sound like a proper mage apprenticeship. It sounded like being apprenticed to a butcher.

“Learning about different sorts of bodies is important if you want to master both life and death magic. What’s more, it will allow you to master your first handful of spells there. On Temsday and Phyday, you’ll be pursuing public contracts for the Spiritwatch or the Wyldwatch, or else ones that I give you. You will have the weekends off.”

“I… see,” I said slowly. That still didn’t sound like any apprenticeship I’d ever heard of, but it at least explained the butcher shop section.

It was still strange, though. The only time that I’d be learning spells was from someone who wasn’t my mentor.

“Your pay will start at thirty-five thousand silver a year, paid biweekly, and increase as your magical skill and power increases. Anything that you bring in through the contracts that you take will be yours to keep in full, of course. Housing will not be provided; however, uniforms and tools will be.”

That made my eyebrows shoot up. Thirty-five thousand silver wasn’t a lot, but it was also… a lot. At least, it was to me.

It was at least five thousand more a year than what I’d make if I stayed as a baker – probably even more than the pay I’d make if I worked at home, since I was part of the family, and would likely need to sacrifice some of my pay.

I didn’t know how lucrative contract work was, but even if the pay wasn’t great, I’d still be making more than at any other point in my life.

“What’s more, if you stick with me, I can assure you that you’ll reach the point where you can begin transitioning with your own power within a year, rather than pouring money down the drain.”

I repressed a swell of hope inside me – transitioning was expensive. Having the tools to do it myself would be incredible…

And completely unreasonable to achieve within a year.

“Even the most basic of those spells are third gate,” I said suspiciously. “Are you claiming you can make me a Spellbinder within a year? That’s ridiculous. My brother just advanced to Spellbinder, and he’s four years older than me.”

“It only takes four years if you’re doing it wrong,” Orykson said with a blandly confident smile.

I frowned and shook my head.

“I’m not sure I believe that, to be honest. You’re telling me every school in the world is going about it the wrong way?”

“No, their way of going about it is correct. They’d likely consider the method I use to be fundamentally flawed. You likely won’t even know a dozen spells before you open your third gate and become a Spellbinder. I plan for you to perfect three utility spells, one mana harvesting spell, and one offensive spell.”

Five spells to advance to Spellbinder? That was ridiculous. Ed had known six combat spells before he’d even opened his second gate, and those were only combat spells.

Liz knew more than thirty combat spells, despite her only having opened her second gate.

And that wasn’t accounting for non-combat spells for either of them!

“That’s it?” I asked in disbelief. “There’s no way I could reasonably do Wyldwatch contract work with one spell. And that’s… still not a lot of spells.”

“There would also be the plant magic that you’d be learning from your other tutor. And if you decided to gain Spatial mana, I would also add the spatial anchor and spatial recall spells of first and second gate,” Orykson said with a shrug. “But ultimately? Yes. Not very much real magic can be taught until you’re a Spellbinder. The jump in mana from a second gate Practitioner to third gate Spellbinder is simply too large.”

There was still one thing that was bothering me, though.

“You said I would perfect those spells. You expect me to master five spells in less than twelve months?”

“Hardly,” Orykson said. I felt a bit of relief at that. He must have just meant that I needed to learn those spells well.

“I expect you to ingrain those five spells,” Orykson continued.

I stared at him, mildly uncertain. I’d heard of ingrained spells, but I didn’t know much about them – it wasn’t something you could do with ungated mana, so my classes had glossed over them.

“Have you mastered a spell yet?” Orykson asked. “To be frank, I assumed you had, given the scores in your classes. If you haven’t…”

“Four,” I said, letting a hint of pride leak into my voice despite myself. “But they’re all spells I use constantly as part of working at the bakery. It took me years to master them.”

That actually seemed to give Orykson pause for a moment.

“Then you should have nothing to worry about,” he said. “Ingraining is only one step further than mastery. You should be practicing the spells I teach you far more than you would the ones at your bakery. So, what do you say?”

I studied the mage across from me. I didn’t see how it was possible for me to ingrain any spell within a year, let alone five of them.

At the same time, he was an Arcanist, and I wasn’t. Surely, he’d know better than I would.

“Fine, I’ll agree, but I want some clauses added to the contract. I need an out that will allow me to leave without punishment if I can’t meet your insane expectations.”

“Absolutely not. I will, however, include a failure clause. If you can’t match my benchmarks within a certain time period, then you’ll be stripped of your title as my apprentice, and you’ll instead need to repay me ten percent of money from whatever job you go on to get, in order to compensate me for the waste of my time. That will include the pay I spent on your salary, equipment, and my own personal time invested.”

“I’m not paying for your time,” I said. “I don’t even know what you’d charge for, and that’s a basic duty as a mentor anyways. Either manage the expectations, or don’t charge for time.”

“No,” Orykson said simply.

“How much for your time, then?” I rebutted.

“Ten thousand silver an hour,” he said, his voice completely level and serious.

I almost spat out my coffee at that. That kind of hourly price was insane. Even most professional mages didn’t charge a hundredth of that. Ten or fifteen hours of that much was enough to bring home an entire year’s worth of a doctor’s salary.

“You’re an Arcanist, but I don’t think your time is that valuable,” I said.

“I’m not an Arcanist,” Orykson responded, and my eyebrows shot up.

“You’re not? What are you, then?”

In response, Orykson drew power from his seventh gate and let it fill the air around us. Even without a spell to structure the power, it hung in the air like an oppressive weight, gravity amplified a thousandfold.

I struggled for breath at the crushing weight of the power.

My vision started fuzzing and going gray at the corners.

I sucked in a desperate gasp of air…