I left my beer pint in the room, having barely touched it, and made my way downstairs. The wood creaked under my step as if announcing me unwelcome.

The thought was an exaggeration, I knew, but I wasn’t lying when I said the building felt insecure. Any second now, the wooden excuse of a ceiling could have collapsed, sending me straight back to Shiela.

Civilization had gathered on the bottom floor. Conversations paused as I peeked into what appeared like a lounge, the size of a large classroom. A stone fireplace and kerosene lamps gave the room an eerie dimness. The uneasy feeling extended into the furniture and decoration.

No carpets covered the cobblestone flooring that could have been mistaken for a historical path of Rome. The lounge’s circular tables appeared once lacquered, but the coatings had long worn off. And as if the room wasn’t oppressive enough, a sculpted bull head hung on the wall, scowling directly at the stairs.

The bull wasn’t the only disapproving look directed at me. People occupied tables. Over ten in total, and more standing. Men, who clearly weren’t ecstatic to see newcomers. On the table closest to me, a man with a sharp face studied me as he sipped beer. He looked like a rogue straight out of a video game.

I glanced around for help, attempting to ignore the more than curious looks. Huss stood at the counter, tapping his finger. He spotted me, then walked over.

He eyed my outfit. “I thought I told you to get dressed.”

“I am dressed,” I said.

Huss scowled at the Metallica logo on my shirt and at the bare skin showing below my shorts. “This won’t do. I can’t let you in looking like this. Wait at the tables. I’ll have to find something.”

Wait! I wanted to say, but Huss had already turned. He disappeared behind the counter, leaving me alone in the lounge.

Chatter hadn’t returned. My heart raced. The looks made me feel naked. Everyone wore full sets of armor or a robe and cloaks to cover themselves. Some hid their faces under hoods to seal their identities. I wished I had done the same.

My awkward standing wasn’t helping. I picked an empty table in the corner, hopefully out of people’s way. I was watched and examined during the whole process, as if even the way I sat was somehow wrong. I pretended I didn’t exist, but my hopes weren’t fulfilled.

They’re curious, that’s all, I told myself. I’m a new guy. They don’t know me. I’d stare too if an alien ordered a drink at my bar.

Two late teens wearing what could have been described as roughed-up Halloween costumes were gathered near the wall, at a notice board showcasing pieces of parchment. Adverts, I assumed. The two weren’t looking at the board, however, but whispering amongst each other. They sent me glances.

In hopes of not being a total weirdo, I gave them a wave and smile. Both came out as awkward at best.

I regretted my decision immediately. The man of the two took my wave as an invitation. He approached my table, while the girl stood back to watch with a concerned look. He rested his hands on the rail of a chair and faced me.

“Are you the one?” he asked.

I leaned back by instinct. The man’s leather harness under his jacket was filled with cut marks. The tough outfit extended to his features. Chin-length brown hair, and a constant expression of toughness. I wouldn’t dare pick a fight with him. He could cut my head off with his sword in a second.

Still, he looked apprehensive, especially of the Metallica logo on my shirt. On closer look, so did the rest of the bar. Everyone was afraid of me, just as they were curious.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“No, you can’t be,” he said in a near whisper. “Who are you? Why does the Guild Master talk to you like that?”

“Like what?” I asked, matching his whisper.

The man glanced behind himself, at the girl who still looked concerned. He turned back to me. “The Wyvern Slayer and his group are at the guild, along with Remyer from House Ravilles. They just walked into the basement without a single question! Rumor says they’re here to recruit.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“You are the one they’re after?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe?”

My response only made him more wary. The man was afraid to sit, and the girl had not taken one step forward. The mood was quickly becoming awkward.

I held out my hand and tried my best to smile. If I wanted any chance at a decent life in the new world, first impressions weren’t something I could screw up. “I’m Cillian. Nice to meet you.”

He froze as if I had pulled a gun. “Sorry,” he said and hurried back to his companion.

I lowered my hand, heart racing. Where had I screwed up? Were handshakes not the norm here?

Thankfully, Huss appeared not long after. A gray piece of cloth was wrapped around his arms. He tossed it at my face. “This was all I could find,” he said. “It’s better than nothing. Put it on.”

I complied. Attempted to, at least. I had no idea how to wear whatever Huss gave me. It was like trying to cover myself with bedsheets.

“It’s a cloak,” Huss said, watching me struggle. He grabbed the cloth and wrapped it around me, then tied it shut. “Not so hard. Let’s go.”

A sour taste welled in my mouth. I followed Huss into the employee-only area, both of us in nervous silence. We passed oak barrels and faucets through a room that smelled of ale and yeast. A lady in a brown apron wiped the counters of spilled beer. She offered us a nervous bow as we passed. Huss gave her a nod before descending into a narrow stone stairway at the back of the room.

“Allow me to warn you.” Huss paused on the stairs. “Don’t let appearances fool you. These three might look like dumb young idiots to the naked eye. They are idiots, at least when you let them be. In action, they are prodigies. I would not win against any of them, not at this age.”

I nodded. The warning didn’t seem all too serious, but Huss’s look made me apprehensive. I followed him regardless.

A gooey lamp of unidentifiable technology lit the basement with much more clarity than the oil lamps upstairs. The walls were of sturdy stone bricks, undecorated but for a lone framed painting of a mountain landscape. The room was a cramped but comfy negotiation chamber.

A man with striking red hair faced two girls on a thick table. Huss stopped near the entrance to watch. The group didn’t seem to notice. The red-hair gulped his drink, then shook something in his hands. He opened his palm, and a group of dice rolled on the table.

The group stared at the results.

“Ha!” the black-haired girl said, a wide grin on her face. “I won! Where did your luck go now?”

The red-hair groaned, leaning back on his chair. “One more slash and my points would have doubled.” He turned to look at us. “Hey, Huss. Can you tell Remy not to order anything too expensive?”

“Hey!” Remy, the black-haired girl, said. “The bet was anything from the menu!”

“Gambling again?” Huss asked. “A shot of orc-eater clear is only three copper today. I’ll make an exception and make it cost double, just for you. Anything for my best customers.”

“Remy will pass out from the taste alone, Huss,” the red-hair said with a laugh. “Any sightings?”

“Nothing,” Huss said. “The cult has been quiet. I bring other good news. The fourth member I promised you is awake.” He stepped to the side to put me in the showcase. “This is Cillian, finally up and walking.”

Three pairs of eyes landed on me. Huss put the pressure on me like an arrow to my chest. My words got stuck in my throat.

“Wow,” the red-haired man said, eyeing me from my sneakers to my face, studying everything the cloak didn’t cover. “That’s a look. You weren’t kidding when you said he’s from far away, were you, Huss?”

I could have said the same words to him if I wasn’t clutching onto my mini sling bag like a toddler in trouble, afraid of speaking a wrong word. I had thought Huss looked odd and scary, but the appearance of this group was on another level of wild.

Everyone in this room was a million times more attractive than me. I met eyes with the red-haired man and got a good look at his features. His face wasn’t as sharp as Huss’s, but he looked strong as hell, and his curious eyes didn’t need a smile to appear charming and charismatic. Like the people in the lounge, he had a sword on his scabbard.

“Ni—” I stuttered like the idiot I was. “Nice to meet you! I’m Cillian. Twenty-two years old. Uh… From the distant land of America…”

“Amreca?” the red-hair said. “Must be far away. You can call me Darko.”

“Oh, America is a small town in the middle of nowhere,” I said, already wanting to crawl into a hole. “The Guild Master said you are looking for a member…”

“We need a specific match of abilities, correct,” Darko said. “Huss? I apologize, but I was under the impression that you had a she. A mage.”

“Cillian is a mage,” Huss said with a wide grin. “I wouldn’t believe it myself, but this young gentleman has risen from the awakener’s coma.”

Everyone's heads perked up. Remy stood up and slammed her hands on the table. “No way. A mage? But he’s a man!”

Huss nodded. “I haven’t had him tested yet, but I can promise potential. If I am correct, he has access to Sacred magic, as you asked.”

Darko gave him a look, then turned to me. “No way. I’m not falling for these tricks anymore. Do you truly possess mana chords?”

“Um,” I said.

“Cillian is right here for inspection,” Huss said. “You are free to study him. Remy knows how to appraise mana chords, no?”

Remy looked at the others, unsure. The brown-haired girl sipped her steaming hot drink and shrugged. Darko nodded.

“Sure,” Remy said. “I’ll happily test him.” She adjusted her hair, then walked up to me, only stopping when she was within arm’s reach. My heart raced.

Remy was around my age. The type of girl I tended to avoid in the fear of embarrassing myself. That was especially true after my sweaty slumber. Three days with no shower to think of. I must have smelled awful.

Remy didn’t seem to notice. On closer look, her black hair had purple strokes to it. The silk cape on her back made her look like a fairy. Underneath, she wore a matching black and purple robe. Her staff was adorned like a gothic Christmas tree with a fortuneteller’s orb at the tip. I couldn’t tell if the ornaments on it were for show, or if the staff was a legendary magical drop from a dungeon.

“Your hand,” she said. “Don’t worry; I will only feel your mana chords.”

Hesitantly, I gave her my left hand, hoping it wasn’t too sweaty. She touched my veins with her fingers, as if she was some doctor examining me for carpal tunnel. She could no doubt feel my heart pulsing.

Her eyes opened wide. She looked me in the eye and grinned, still feeling my hand. “Shena, you have to feel this. His mana chords are bigger than yours!”

Shena sipped her tea, barely looking in our direction. “If you say he’s strong, I believe you.”

Remy pouted at her. “I’m serious! He could create a storm if he practiced.”

“I said I believe you,” Shena said with a sigh. “Not everything I say is just to make fun of you.”

Out of the three, Shena was the most normal-looking. Short brown hair and a reserved, even slightly uncaring posture. She wore a simple brown robe and stockings with boots. Her staff was a crooked stick, unimpressive compared to Remy’s. Still, the outfit didn’t take away from the fantastical air around her. She was no doubt a mage or a witch too.

Now, don’t ask me about my preferences in women, and don’t ever ask me if I found Shena or Remy attractive. Because, holy hell, both girls were way, way out of my league.

“Pure power doesn’t matter this time,” Darko said. “What’s important is Sacred magic. Are his mana chords actually Hallowed?”

“I think so,” Remy said. “I’ve never seen chords this large. This must be what the books talk about. I’m positive he could learn ‘Divine Impalement.’”

“Interesting.” Darko sipped his drink. “You’ve got yourself quite the talent, Cilan.”

He pronounced my name wrong. I didn’t mention it. Instead, I smiled awkwardly. This whole thing made me feel like a piece of merchandise being tossed around at an auction. “Thanks?” I said.

“I take this means he’s fit for the team?” Huss said with a grin. “Cillian is inexperienced with magic, but his powers are immense. His fireballs will pack a punch, let me tell you.”

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Remy stared at Darko and Shena. “He’s in, right?”

“He has the potential. We need his ability.” Darko took another sip. The way he sat didn’t appear too excited. “But it’s not possible. ‘Inexperienced’ is a stretch. Cilan just awakened. How in the name of Akona and her dozen moons do you expect us to train this man into anything resembling the mage we need?”

Huss’s lips twitched. “Please reconsider. Cillian is an odd one, but I can promise you he won’t be just a filler member. Teach him a few tricks, and he’ll be as good a member as any.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Darko said. “Whoever takes him is a lucky Master indeed. I regret letting him go, but there simply isn’t enough time. A guild master should know that a recent awakener is not going to survive a second fighting black magic practitioners with decades of experience killing people. And that’s assuming we take a risk in attempting to quell his Corruption.”

Black magic practitioners? I thought. Sorry?

Huss tapped his foot. He gave me the “Do something” look. Had I already screwed up? Was I supposed to convince Darko to let me in? Was this part of Shiela’s so-called fate?

Darko gulped down the rest of his beer, then faced me. “It’s unfortunate, but we can’t take you. It’s nothing personal. Our circumstances simply don’t match. I hope you understand.”

“No.” Remy glared at Darko. “You don’t understand. We can’t leave him. The Houses will take him if we don’t. He’ll be eaten.”

Excuse me? I thought. My body felt increasingly heavier as I listened. Eaten? Am I in trouble?

“I want him too, Remy,” Darko said. “The plan needs his magic. But no mage can become a fighter in the months we have, not without an expert supervising every moment. Last I saw, no licensed teachers were willing to drop their contracts to assist lunatic adventurers.”

“So what if we lack licenses?” Remy said. “I can teach him.”

Shena nearly spat out her drink. She swallowed too quickly, then coughed. “Teach him? Remy, there’s no way you’re asking to be a teacher. You can’t teach a hound to sit; how do you plan on treating his mana chords? Do you wish to train the second coming of Soulstealer Stella under your name?”

“No!” Remy said. “I know what I’m doing. I might not be licensed, but I have studied the process in and out. I would never train a rogue mage.”

“Even if your skills are as proper as you claim,” Shena said, “if you get caught, you’re both in serious trouble.”

“Oh, shut up,” Remy said. “We break laws all the time. I can’t watch another mage fall into the Houses’ power games. What do you say, Darko? I would be a great teacher, no?”

Wait, wait, wait! I thought. There was no time to speak in between. I was too afraid to open my mouth even if there was. What “Houses!”

I glanced at Huss for help. The guild master tapped his foot repeatedly, engrossed in listening. He didn’t see me at all.

“Remy, you’re a fantastic mage,” Darko said. “I won’t deny that. You know the most magic out of anyone I know. But are you good enough for an awakener to trust his mana chords on your teachings? Are you good enough to teach ‘Divine Impalement’ in the months we have?”

Remy bit her lip.

“The Queen Pope herself spent decades learning, and she’s the most talented Krose mage to currently exist,” Darko said. “And I’m sure both of you girls spent years channeling mana before casting a single spell.”

“My whole childhood,” Shena said.

“Cill won’t be ready for the mission,” Remy said. She walked up to Darko and tapped her staff on the floor. “I know he will be a liability. But I can’t leave him. I will not leave an awakener for the Houses to steal. Nobody deserves the life nobles offer.”

Darko faced her gaze, then sighed. “True enough. It would be a shame to see another talent fall to slavery.”

“I will teach him,” Remy said.

The room went silent as Darko thought. Shena drank her tea, as if nothing was happening. Huss sent me a nervous glance.

I had no idea what I was signing up for. But I knew from the mood in the air that whatever this mage slavery business was, I wanted no part of it. Shiela, the Goddess, sent me here for a reason. I had to make myself important. Probably. Maybe.

“I’m a fast learner,” I blurted out.

Darko turned to me. “Cilan, was it? Sit down. Let’s talk for a minute. What’s your preferred drink?”

I breathed in, taking a moment to gather my wits. In the name of fate, I ignored the warnings all around the room and sat next to Darko. I nudged the seat an inch to keep my distance. “I prefer spirits or wine if I have to add alcohol,” I said. “But cold water always works.”

“Beer is just alcohol-flavored water, is it not?” Darko said.

Shena glared at him. “We have work tonight.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Darko said with a laugh, though the easy look was gone within seconds. “Huss, leave Cill to us for a moment. He won’t die, I promise.”

Huss stood like a nervous brick as he glanced at me. “Very well.” He walked out.

“Wine, is it?” Darko said. “You aren’t going to live long in this country with hopes like that. Let me offer a piece of advice for survival.”

“Yes?” I asked.

“I would stick with water today if I were you,” Darko said. “Huss’s orc shot is one thing, but his wine is undoubtedly the worst-tasting liquid to ever make it to Volés. And it barely has any alcohol!”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

Shena sighed. “Are all of your jokes about your drinking habits?”

“It’s a genuine warning,” Darko said. “I’ll order three glasses of wine for you bunch if you don’t believe me.”

“No thank you,” Shena said. She poured a cup of tea and handed it to me. “Drink this. It’s healthy for the head. I’m sure it’s better than any poison the guild offers.”

“Thanks.” I accepted the cup, treating it like I would a newborn. I took an uncivilized gulp. Whatever the bitter orange liquid was, my dehydrated mouth tasted holy water. Shena was the real Goddess, I was convinced.

“You truly are from far away, huh?” Darko said with a laugh. “No Krose man would ever step close to Shena’s cups. Is tea a mage’s drink, perhaps?”

“I’m sorry if I’m weird,” I said. “It’s my first day in the country.”

“We all come from different places,” Shena said. “You a tad further from the rest. It makes no difference.”

“Indeed,” Darko said. “Your choice of drink matters as little as the color of your eyes. What really decides your worth is your ability to blast spells at cultists before they kill you.”

I paused.

“Say, Cill,” Darko said. “What’s your relationship with danger?”

“What do you mean?” I asked softly.

“How many times have you risked your life for a purpose you must achieve?” Darko asked.

I froze in my seat, very much regretting my decision to ignore warnings. What kind of question was that? How many times had I risked my life? Hell, I was a modern-day American. I crashed a car once. I almost ran under a bus as a kid. Both were nothing but traffic accidents.

I had killed myself once. Jumped off the twelfth floor, just to stop existing.

“Once?” I said.

“The three of us risk our lives every day,” Darko said. “A single mistake could mean a head chopped off.”

He stared at me, expecting an answer. My doubts grew as my brain slowly put together that I was, in fact, signing up for real life. Real challenges.

Hadn’t Shiela specifically sent me to a world without warfare? Why, then, was I being asked to risk my life just to fix my depression?

“Truthfully, I would never invite a man with your eyes to my party,” Darko continued. “You’re not a bad man; you simply don’t have what it takes to fight.”

I bit my lip. “You aren’t wrong.”

“If you hoped to join us for a free education, you’ve come to the wrong place,” Darko said. “If you believe you’re here for a quick buck of glory, you’re better off hunting monsters. Fame comes from defeating dragons. Not from fighting our own people, as we do.”

Is this a part of my fate too? I thought, sweating under Darko’s eyes. This was not how the vacation was supposed to go.

“Kroses Sol has problems,” Darko said. “Problems that we work to fix for the good of our people. If you truly wish to join us, the minimum we expect is a heart to care, just as we do.”

“I…” The words got stuck on the pressure in my throat. “I always give my best. Even if my best isn’t any good…”

“Will you give your best, if trying means risking certain death?” Darko asked.

No, was my real answer. Absolutely not. I knew myself. I was a coward. Always had been.

“That’s why you can’t join us,” Darko said, as if he’d read my mind. “It’s nothing personal. You have a life ahead of you. You’re the most talented mage I’ve ever seen. There is no need to waste your chances dying in a battle with us. Practice some, and I’m sure your feats will be written in History.”

Great life ahead of me? What about the “mage slavery!” A thousand alarm bells rang in my head, but I was too afraid to ask for a single detail.

So, I sipped my tea, pretending like nothing bad was happening to me.

“Darko…” Remy frowned. “He’ll be written down as just another slave if we abandon him now.”

“I know,” Darko said. “And I think I know just the solution. Teachers lurk all over the country if you know where to look. Even the Houses’ teacher monopoly isn’t absolute. There’s someone I know, even in this miserable city. Assuming Cill wishes to strive for a life outside the system.”

“Outside the system?” I asked.

“You must have come to the Guild in hopes of escaping the horror stories of the nobles’ slave contracts,” Darko said. “The stories are mostly true, unfortunately. The nobles won’t teach you without enslaving your freedom. But what young mages don’t realize is that the real horror stories come from those who attempt a life outside cruelty. Magic is an unfortunate power to bear. Slavery is nothing compared to the risk of losing your mind to the Corruption.”

What do you mean! I wanted to ask again, but I felt too stupid to say it out loud. I’m losing my mind?

“The path I’m about to suggest is not a pleasant one,” Darko continued. “Life would be easier under the nobles’ care. Few rogue mages come out of licensed teachers.” He looked me directly in the eye. “If instead, you wish to keep your freedom, escaping from the nobility’s laws, I have one hell of a journey prepared for you.”

I sat with my mouth frozen shut. What was wrong with this damn country!

Darko turned to Remy. “Did I miss anything?”

Remy breathed in. “You’re being too harsh. Good mages don’t go insane. Learned mages are stronger and healthier than regular people. The Corruption only eats the ones who fail to learn. Every awakener needs a teacher, licensed or not.”

“Well, unless you’re Shena,” Darko said.

“Shena is lucky,” Remy said. “She would be a part of some noble's schemes right now if she wasn’t a self-taught genius.”

“Wow,” Shena said. “Is this the first compliment I have received from you?”

Remy sighed. “I would compliment you more if you weren’t always so rude.”

Shena sipped her tea. “Sorry.”

“What happens to me?” I managed to ask.

Darko opened his mouth, but Remy spoke first. “The nobles can’t have him.”

Darko sighed. “Fine. The hard path it is, then. Cill, I’ll refer you to an illegal teacher I know. Blame Remy if this path proves too difficult. Shena, can you write a letter for me?”

Remy watched with suspicion while Shena grabbed a quill and parchment. I shared the angst. The lack of understanding in this all was enough to get me nervous.

“Who to?” Shena asked.

“You remember old Jord from last year?” Darko asked.

Shena gave him a look. “The one who cut Tiera’s hair for alchemical purposes? I do, unfortunately. I have considered learning mind control, however, to delete my memory of that creep.”

Darko laughed. “That’s him. Jord’s got quite the clever setup in town. There’s an old catacomb under Akona’s church. You know the location?”

“Darko…” Remy asked. “Where are we sending Cill again?”

“To an old friend of ours,” Darko said, ignoring Remy’s glare. “Shena and I worked with him in the past. Jord used to be one of the more respected, more skilled teachers amongst the royals. He knows his stuff. The Princess herself studied under him, until he… You know what happened. Jord would be ecstatic to teach someone as talented as Cill, I’m sure.”

“Jordan Feryah?” Remy asked. “Is that who you’re talking about? The Princess kidnapper?”

“That’s him,” Darko said.

Remy scowled. “He is as illegal as teachers get.”

“He’s the best bet for avoiding slave contracts,” Darko said. “Shena, just write something, Jord will understand.”

Shena sighed, then inked the quill and began writing. “I’m not leaving my name on this.”

I would have been impressed by Shena's precise handwriting if not for my nerves about to make me crap myself. Where in the name of Shiela was I being sent?

War-free utopia, my ass. I wanted to go home.

“This Jord guy…” I asked. “What was he exiled for?”

“He burned a few public establishments,” Darko said. “And there were a couple other accidents too. These events were all forgiven until he, uh, kind of kidnapped Princess Alyce. Sounds vile, but last I saw, the two were happily married and in hiding. A year could have changed things, but I’m sure he’ll take good care of our awakener.”

“Last time you were sure that drinking sixteen shots wouldn’t get you hungover,” Remy said.

Darko laughed. “Vulusen’s orc clears are a sneaky bunch. It’s easy to underestimate alcohol that doesn’t taste like swamp mud.”

Remy’s scowl remained. “This is serious.”

“Don’t worry,” Darko said. “Jord is his own man, I admit. But I know him.”

Remy glanced at me, worried. “If you say so…”

Shena finished the letter, and Darko scribbled a signature. He folded the note, then handed it to me. “There you have it. Ask around for sightings of a dirty homeless man. You should find him, or at least signs of him, in the church’s abandoned catacombs. Don’t dig too deep in the wrong direction. The cult has been active around the area, you see. The church should be safe.”

Hesitantly, I took the letter. I had a near-infinite amount of questions I wanted answers to, but it seemed I had no time for any of them. “Should I get worried?”

“A mage can’t live without worries, unfortunately,” Shena said. “Gremlin Jord is likely the best bet you have. He will make your life a living hell if he accepts you as his student at all. I know none of his students have enjoyed his style of teaching.”

“What a mage must do to avoid slave contracts,” Darko said with a sigh. “Jord was a licensed royal teacher for a reason. He turns awakeners into damn good mages. There aren’t many teachers as efficient as Jord.”

Sweat and doubts ran down my back, despite the others’ attempts to quell my worries. I glanced at Remy, the only member who still seemed concerned for my well-being.

She shrugged. “If Shena recommends him too, he can’t be that bad. Anything is better than a life under the nobles.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, as if I had any idea what anything meant.

I couldn’t read the note given to me. The handwriting was pretty, but it was all indecipherable scribbles. Translation magic didn’t work on text. I knew I had to deliver it to this renegade teacher guy, but well… something about the idea didn’t excite me.

While I was staring at the note, my eyes unfocused, Darko stood up. He stretched his arms. “It’s time we get moving. I wish you luck, Cill. If we ever meet again, let’s make it on friendly terms. I’m eager to see how the years treat you.”

“Shame,” Remy said as she picked up her stuff. “I always wanted a student. Maybe some other time. See you around.”

“Goodbye…” I managed to say.

I watched as the meeting a Goddess arranged for me came to an end. Darko stepped out, and Shena followed. Remy waved me goodbye, then left too. Their footsteps quieted down, and the cold basement fell into silence.

I sat in disbelief. So many insane things had happened that my brain processed none of them. I felt as if I should be concerned with a hundred different things, but nothing had registered as a definite threat. I was just so confused.

Had I screwed up? Was I supposed to be let into Darko’s group?

I stared at the letter for a while longer, but no magical assistance suddenly came to decipher its contents. Was the letter a part of the Goddess’s plans too? If Darko’s description of Jord was correct, Shiela wanted to have my ass beaten by a strict teacher, while learning a field I’d rather not meddle with at all.

Did Shiela have a plan for me at all? I didn’t know. I simply didn’t know.

I should have stayed in bed.

[Cillian Bermeyer]

[Level one]

[Recent awakener]

[Abilities: Fireball, Carillia’s assistance]