When Megan’s eyes were open, the first thing she noticed was Samuel. The Archmage had put her on a soft cot in the corner of a dimly lit room and was sitting on a rickety wooden chair near the head of her bed. He looked to be snoozing lightly, leaning forward on the chair and resting his elbows on his knees. His hands were supporting his chin, and he breathed lightly. He could have been meditating if Megan didn’t hear the faintest quiet snore coming from him.

The room she was in was pretty simple as far as decoration went, though she didn’t recognize it as any room within the College she’d ever seen. Not that her memory could be trusted, she thought. For the past year, her mind had been full of memories of growing up on the north-eastern coast of Tyrman, on the city of Jyrok. She could clearly recall every detail of the city on the cliffs, not to mention her childhood friends there. But now there was a second life there, belonging to a different world, a different her.

Was she really from this other world? The memories that had flooded her mind as she slept felt just as real as any she’d acquired from Ahya, and yet it all felt like the life of a different person. Samuel had said that her life in Ahya was the fake one, but she didn’t feel like that was the truth. Well, whatever the answer was, she hoped it came soon. Her head ached abominably with the strain of trying to keep the two different lives separate. Frustrated, she rubbed her eyes with the butt of her hands, drawing spots in her field of vision.

Samuel stirred at the slight movement, his violet eyes flicking open and shining faintly in the dim light. He looked even warier than before, she thought in faint amusement. He was normally a distant, cheerful figure for students of the College, but now she took the chance to study him closely. He was rumored to be over five hundred years old, but he only looked to be five or six years older than her. The only sign of wisdom that came with the years was in the faint wrinkles around his mouth and eyes.

Samuel sat up slowly, stretching the stiffness out of his body that came from sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours at a time and brushed the black hair out of his eyes. The white streak on his forehead drew her attention for a moment, then he put a reassuring smile on his face. For just a moment, he looked like the usual Archmage of Knowledge that she’d known for a year.

“Good morning,” he said. “Or rather, good evening. I was starting to fear that you wouldn’t wake up.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Just over four days,” Samuel explained. “I spent two of those trying to figure out what came over you. My best guess is that the strain of your returning memories was too big of a burden for your mind, and you went catatonic.”

“So I was in a coma?” She asked. “I thought those lasted longer.”

He tilted his head slightly at the foreign word, but moved on. “Well, I healed your mind while you slept, stabilizing it and your soul so that you could hear in your own time. I must admit, even I’ve never experienced that kind of injury, so it took me a while to figure out what to do with it.”

“Oh,” she said faintly. “Thanks for that, I guess.”

He shrugged lightly, as if to say it was nothing. An awkward silence fell, in which Megan looked around the room once more. Apart from the cot and the chair Samuel sat on, there was a very small desk, barely big enough for one person, in the far corner. It sat under a window, through which she could see the light of a street lantern. It was completely silent outside, though, which was strange for Milagre.

“Where am I?”

He glanced at the window as well at her question. “We’re in my home.”

“In Milagre?” She asked. “It’s oddly quiet tonight.”

“No,” he replied with a smile. “My original home, in Harlest. This small town actually falls asleep, unlike Milagre, so it’s more peaceful in these hours.”

“You brought me all the way to Harlest?” She asked, incredulous. While it was said that he was from a small village on the coast, she’d always assumed that was an inaccurate rumor. He was so well-versed in Milagrean life that he didn’t really feel like a resident of the countryside.

“This is the home that I shared with my mother,” he said with a nod. “It’s completely separate from all my holdings in Milagre. It’s my comfortable connection to the past. I’ve made a few improvements over the years, but it’s mainly the same one that my mother bought.”

His mother, she thought. There was a lot more credible information on Elena Bragg, the Archmage’s mother. There were stories from those who knew Samuel as a young man, who attested just how much of the woman’s nature had been passed on to her son. Her warm nature and kind curiosity were said to be a strong influence on the man he was nowadays. Unbidden, the memory of her own mother came to mind, on Earth. A busy, harried woman, who worked two jobs to afford rent for the tiny apartment in which she’d been raised.

But there was also her Ahyan mother, she thought. Francine. It was only now that Megan realized the two mothers had the same name. They were also the same in appearance, standing before her in memory, the same patient, tired, and loving smile wrinkling her face. Her Earth mother worked at a laundromat nowadays, an easy job for her retirement. In Ahya, Francine was a tailor. Not the best, but certainly competent. She couldn’t remember a father, in either Earth or Ahya.

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“Did you give Eric memories of Ahya before he came as well?” She asked abruptly, drawing his attention back to her. “Or was he prepared in some other way?”

“I…. didn’t have time to introduce him properly, as I have with you,” Samuel replied. “My instructions from Arcana were much vaguer a year ago, and I felt a greater urge to act fast. I did my best to make his transition smooth, letting him get accustomed to Ahyan life before he started anything big.”

Megan remembered now what Samuel had said in his library. I summoned him to Milagre to help me prevent a great catastrophe in the future. Now that burden would fall on her, she realized. “How did he die?”

“He was poisoned by an agent of Attos,” Samuel said. “It was a light mixture, only paralyzing him, but then they placed a lethal rune on his body. In a rash attempt to get rid of it, he cut himself badly. The rune was destroyed, of course, but he bled out. I couldn’t revive him.”

She was properly aware of the deep grief and remorse he felt now. Eric had clearly been important to him, and she could tell that he felt a great sense of failure at his death. To her surprise, she felt a wash of pity and sympathy come over her. She reached out and put one hand on his arm. He looked down at the small contact, then back into her eyes.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said. “I’m sure you did the best you could. But he’s in a better place now, right?”

He nodded, his face suddenly stone-like. “I sent him back home, to Earth. I gave him a home and a large sum of the money of that world, so he’s living very comfortably.”

She nodded her understanding, then swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. He started to rise as well, that wary look back in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I’m here in Ahya for a reason,” she said. “I might as well do what I can, so I can go back to my studies.”

Samuel looked thrown off. “You’re willing to help? That easily?”

She looked at him in confusion. “Of course. That’s why I’m here, right?”

“Well, yes,” he replied hesitantly. “But I expected you to disagree at first. I was ready to beg, if necessary.”

The thought of the mighty Maelstrom Lord, Archmage of Knowledge, Champion of Arcana, and Paragon of Ahya begging drew a smile to her face. She was almost tempted to try and see what that sight was like, but pushed the thought away. “I take it Eric was less willing?”

“At first, yes,” Samuel confirmed. “But at the end, he was more than willing to help. I feel I wronged him by the way he was introduced to it all. That’s why I gave you memories of this world, and a year to prepare. Attos has fallen very quiet after the attack in Sheran, but I suspect that he’ll be starting up again soon.”

“So that’s why you chose me as your Paragon Apprentice,” she thought. “Was he in the same role before me?”

Samuel shook his head. “Eric had… little interest in magic. He was getting rather good with his swords, and I tried to arrange training for him. But he found a master on his own, and was just starting to really get a hang of things.”

“Well, l’m glad I ended up with magic,” Megan said, looking down at her frail frame. “I really hate exercise.”

“You did mention that,” Samuel said, a faint smile on his face. “But in reality, you are my Paragon Apprentice so that I can teach you my unique skills, in time. I had never intended to take an apprentice at all, but this is a convenient excuse to train you myself.”

“To ensure that I don’t fail.”

“No. To ensure that you have the tools you need to succeed.”

Those words were still in her mind several hours later, when she and Samuel had returned to Milagre through a portal. He told her to go back to her room in the College for now, while he gathered materials and equipment for her. The entire dormitory was quiet, with nearly all the students either out at a party or studying dutifully in the common area. Rachel was wide awake, and waiting for her in her room.

“Where have you been?” She asked immediately, the second Megan opened the door. “I’ve been worried sick. Someone told me you stormed Archmage Bragg’s room and attacked his attendant.”

The memory of that felt distant and faint to Megan, but she smiled reassuringly. “Yes, I did. Sorry to worry you.”

Her easy reply made Rachel frown. “You seem different. What happened? Did Bragg punish you for it? Have you been dismissed as his apprentice?”

Megan glanced down at the gold-trimmed red robe she wore. The simple fact that she still had the garment on should have proven to her friend that she still held the role, but she understood the confusion. Samuel had never been known to take a Paragon Apprentice, so her rude actions could easily have resulted in the loss of the title. She now knew Samuel to have much more patience than that, but she couldn’t expect her fellow students to know that.

“I’m fine,” she said with a sigh. She was still tired and wanted to sleep. “He explained what he expected of me, and I’m still his apprentice.”

“So what is expected of you?” Rachel asked. “Michael thinks you’re going to be sent on missions to fight other mages. I told him he’s an idiot, of course.”

“What do you think I’m doing to have to do?”

Rachel thought about it for a moment. “Well, Jordan and I think you’re going to become a teacher. Eventually, after you’ve spent years learning, you’ll take Bragg’s place as the Transmutation Master.”

Megan actually laughed at that. The idea of teaching other mages was slightly alarming, but also amusing. “Nothing like that, I promise. I don’t know exactly what’s expected of me, but for now, I’m going to keep doing my schooling as normal. He said he wants me to learn his unique skills.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “You’re going to learn his magic? That’s a rare honor.”

Megan shrugged. “I’m going to have to learn how to use silent magic. But he’s the best teacher there is, isn’t he? I’ll probably be fine.”