Eric had seen a few pictures of mansions in his life, but never with his own eyes. He’d certainly never set foot in one. So the knowledge that he now owned one was, at the very least, a new experience. The Courier had described Raven’s Hall as one of the smaller homes, but it was easily four or five times the size of any home or apartment he’d ever lived in. It looked as though it could comfortably hold thirty rooms. Too big, he thought. If it were normal-sized, they could fit a lot more people in here.

Emma had steered him straight through the crowd of curious nobles, pushing him to the front door and into the huge building before many of them could ask him anything. Eric was grateful for this, but he did wish he’d had more time to study the building from the outside. He had a vested interest in medieval architecture, and if any of the more important buildings in Milagre were anything to judge by, he was sure that even a small noble house would be a wonder to behold.

The interior was suitably impressive, from what he could see. A large, open entry hall of black and white checkered marble, several polished wooden doors leading to other parts of the building, and a beautiful wide staircase to the second floor, carved from some handsome dark wood. The walls were made of the same type of wood, but potted plants, paintings, and white marble statues around the property created a feeling of open, clean light that appealed to him.

Two of the doors on the right-hand side of the building opened, revealing half a dozen people in simple finery. They hurried over to stand before him and Emma, going into deep bows and chorusing their welcome. Still a little lost, Eric replied cordially. They introduced themselves then. The steward, head chef, tailor, groundskeeper, two maids, and a personal attendant. Eric tried to remember the names he was given, but they slipped through his brain like water through cupped palms.

“The six of you maintain this entire building on your own?” Eric asked, impressed by their work ethic. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is what we are trained in, Master Breeden,” his steward said, bowing once more. “But we are honored by your gratitude for our efforts.”

“Young master,” the chef said now, taking one step forward. “You must be famished after your long day. Please tell me, is there any food and beverage you are partial to?”

“Err,” Eric said, wishing he sounded more regal. “Not really. I mean, I like Mandra’s strawberry tea, but I’ll eat anything.”

“An understandable liking,” his head chef replied with a wide smile. “I shall procure some for supper tonight. Would you like to take a bath first, sir? Edward is ready to fit you some clothing, and we can prepare one of the guest rooms for the lady if required.”

A little alarmed at the efficiency of the staff, Eric spared a glance for Emma. She smiled widely. “I will not be staying the night, chef. I am merely here to celebrate my friend’s achievement, then I will be returning home.”

“You’ll stay for dinner, though, right?” Eric asked. He wasn’t even sure when he’d decided that he was staying for dinner. He leaned in close and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Don’t leave me alone, please.”

She winked at him, her eyes glimmering with that usual mischievous light. “Of course I’ll stay for dinner. Whether or not I stay longer is on you.”

He would have pondered the significance of those words, but he wasn’t given the time. What she said had just barely started to sink in when there was a quiet tap on the large double doors that were still open from his entry. Turning, Eric saw Samuel Bragg standing in the doorway, a broad grin stretching across his face as he studied Eric’s obvious discomfort with the new situation. He wore his usual fine Archmage’s robes, but he had the distinct feeling of being just out of place as Eric was.

“I came to congratulate you on your new fortune,” he said cheekily. “I see that life as a minor noble is already starting to weigh you down.”

“Lord Bragg!” The steward stumbled forward, going into an even deeper bow than he’d shown Eric. “It is an honor to welcome you to Raven’s Hall. To what do we owe this momentous pleasure?”

“You owe it to my friend Eric,” Samuel said. Eric was astonished to hear the cold note of disdain in his voice. “Who is the one I’m here to speak with. Do not interrupt us again.”

Eric couldn’t see the expression on the steward’s face, but he saw the man shrink back a few inches, and had to struggle to hide his smile. Samuel seemed to dislike the idea of nobility and pompous behavior as well. Whatever the reason behind that was, Eric appreciated it. He resolved to learn how to speak in that same dismissive, commanding tone as soon as he could.

“Thanks for stopping by, Samuel,” he said. “You want to have dinner with us?”

“That sounds great,” Samuel said with obvious pleasure. “I never turn down a free meal. But before we eat, do you mind if I speak to you privately?”

“First you’re made a minor noble,” Emma said with a look of mock-reproach on her face, “Then you’re on a first-name basis with the Archmage of Knowledge. Just who are you, Eric?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Hopelessly lost,” Eric grumbled before he could think of a proper way of saying it. Both Emma and Samuel laughed. Turning to the assembled staff, he spoke quickly. “Thank you for your warm welcome. Please, return to your duties.”

The staff filtered back through the doors, disappearing to other parts of the house, until only the steward remained, moving to a position just behind Eric. Samuel gave the man a stern look. “I said privately, steward. Please, take your leave.”

“With respect, Lord Bragg,” the steward said, speaking to his feet. “It is my duty to be at my master’s side, to attend to his needs.”

“What he needs is advice,” Samuel replied, almost contemptuously. “He’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the perks of his life later.”

The steward remained where he was, casting a questioning look at Eric. Only when Eric waved for him to leave did he finally depart, casting looks filled with undisguised dislike over to Samuel. Eric waited for the door to close behind him before letting out a long breath he wasn’t aware of holding. He relaxed a great deal, then turned to look at Emma.

“Sorry, Emma,” he said quietly. “Feel free to explore the house. I’m sure this won’t take long.”

Samuel nodded his agreement with the assessment, and Emma took the hint. “Alright, then. I’ll see you for dinner. I think that bath sounds just right for me.”

Eric smiled after her as she made her way up the sweeping wood stairs, for all the world as if she lived there. Shaking his head in silent admiration, he turned to face the Archmage once more, his face falling into serious lines. It didn’t bode well that Samuel was visiting him again so soon after they’d unmasked Attos as the culprit behind a god’s murder. His expression must have said it, for Samuel raised both of his hands in a calming gesture.

“Relax,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not here for anything drastic. In fact, I’m really here to congratulate you. I also have a gift for you, as a way of thanking you for your help.”

“A gift?” Eric repeated, staring pointedly around the huge space. “And you think that this isn’t going overboard?”

“I tried to convince Her Majesty that you weren’t the noble type,” Samuel explained. “But she insisted, and she’s a stubborn one. She won’t be dissuaded once she’s made her mind up.”

“That whole family seems stubborn,” Eric commented, which got another laugh out of Samuel. “You don’t seem to like the nobility. Why is that?”

“I was made a noble long ago,” Samuel said, his eyes gazing into the past. “My father was a lord before me, and I hated the house that I’d inherited. It reminded me of him, and I didn’t like him much.”

Eric waited for Samuel to explain further, but the mage didn’t seem inclined. So he shrugged it aside. “What kind of gift did you get me, then, if you know me so well?”

Samuel smirked at the implied challenge in his voice and produced a small cloth sack, able to be concealed with one hand, from thin air. When he handed it over, Eric opened it to reveal a small shining gem of some kind. As he pulled it out and held it up to the light, he could make out the minuscule carved runic symbols along the edge, indicating some kind of magic. It was wide and flat, clearly intended to be in a setting.

“I enchanted it myself,” The Archmage explained. “It will store a portion of your energy every day, and gather it up. When you start to get tired and need more energy, you can use that gem to get a good boost. It doesn’t last long, no more than ten minutes, but it should be useful in a pinch.”

Eric regarded the gem in a new light, rolling it back and forth in his palm. “Wow. Thanks. You’re right, this does seem useful.”

“It’s a small token of my gratitude,” Samuel replied, waving his hand in dismissal of the thanks. “I don’t think we could have revealed Attos and his ally nearly as quickly without you.”

“I’m sure you could have figured it out in no time,” Eric retorted with a short laugh. “Wait. You said you had some advice. Or was that just something you said to irritate the steward?”

“I do have advice for you,” Samuel assured him. “But it may be… confusing. I still think it is useful information for you, though.”

“Confusing?” Eric repeated with a snort. “Well, that would be a first.”

Samuel didn’t laugh at that, but he did offer a patient smile. When Eric had safely stowed the gem into the pouch at his waist, he waved one hand elaborately through the air in front of him. Energy dripped from his fingers as they moved, forming a doorway between them. Then the doorway formed into a solid shape, and the Archmage placed one hand on the knob.

“Follow me, then,” he said and opened the door. It was pitch-black on the other side. “It’s time you learned a little more about how Ahya works.”

He stepped through the door, disappearing from view. Eric hesitated a moment or two, unsure of the advisability in following a powerful mage through a mysterious door. But he shrugged, rationalizing that if Samuel wanted to harm him, he could have done so much earlier, and he was clearly a master of his craft. He stepped through the door as well, feeling Raven’s Hall fade from existence behind him. What he stepped into was not actually darkness, but another building.

This was much smaller and dingier than the mansion they’d just left, but there was an unmistakable air of comfort and love here. He was in a small living room-type space, with walls made of shaved logs and a thatched roof. A stone fireplace was set into one corner, with a fire already crackling merrily, spreading its light and warmth over the room.

The room clearly also served as a dining area, with a small table and four chairs set in the corner opposite the fire. There were several books scattered on the surface, with faded titles and worn spines. They, along with the overall feel of the room, spoke to a time when life was simpler. Without realizing how, Eric instantly knew that this was Samuel’s origin. He turned to stare at the Archmage, noting that he no longer wore the elaborate robes. They were replaced with a plain dark blue set, extremely patched and comfortable, and the white streak was gone from his hair. But most interesting of all, his eyes were back to a normal blue. The exact same shade as little Elena’s, Eric realized.

“Welcome to my first home, in Harlest,” Samuel said. “I like to come here when I have some difficult thinking to do.”