I stood outside the door of the cabin. This was where I would find the mage trainer to certify my level, but there was a problem. This was the place from yesterday.
The entire walk here I avoided eye contact with every person I passed and even then I could feel the glares. Was I just imagining it? Did they recognize me?
The voices inside were having a conversation, something casual I thought. I didn't want to be a pest, so I waited for the perfect opportunity, the perfect lull to knock. When the moment came, I raised up my fist, and—
The door opened.
Standing there was the young guard from yesterday, the one who kept calling me ma'am. He stared down at me with wide eyes, mouth open from the shock and confusion, and he eased the door back shut in front of me.
My fist still raised, frozen in a knocking motion, my body unmoving as I stood in disbelief. That turd ignored me! I kicked the door hard enough to rattle the frame. It opened again.
"Fruit girl!" he yelled. His body had tensed, ready for a fight.
I felt the blood rush to my face, both in anger and in embarrassment. "I'm... I'm here for the fire mage!" I shouted. "And I brought this as an apology." I held up a small bushel of apples. It was the least I could do, and it cost half the money I had. I hoped the gift might take the brunt of the awkwardness.
He stared at me with a blank expression for a moment. A woman behind him called out. "Bring her in."
"Yes, priestess," he said.
I walked around him, not bothering to even glance at the boy, and made my way inside. The place was mostly unchanged, but now it smelled of sulfur and ash. The priestess was sitting at the table, half writing in a document, half studying an unlit candle. She was adorned in the same robes as yesterday, but with her hair pulled past her ear and glasses on her face. The lady was older than me I thought, in her thirties but with porcelain skin of a girl a decade her junior. She did not look up from her work when she spoke. "So the lunatic wants to play with fire." The young guard chuckled as he stepped out into the grass to leave.
I could feel my ears getting hot. "Sorry about before. I brought something as an apology." I handed her the bushel.
"Thank you." She set her quill down and took an apple. With a bite, she nodded at the chair across from her. "Sit."
I eased into the chair and glanced at her work. The candle wasn't unlit at all, but instead, a tiny white flame lined the edges of the wick, not even giving off smoke. A pool of hot candlewax sat at the top. "Oh, I met with the Lord Priest this morning," I said. "He told me to bring you this." I presented the leaf.
She took it, studied it, then placed it on the candle. It caught the flame, and she set it on a metal plate to let it burn. "Level 5 in less than a day. That's impressive."
"Thanks."
"But you have much to learn." She stared at the burning leaf as she spoke, the fires dancing in her eyes. "What color is your flame?"
"Uh, red?"
"Just red? No yellows, no blues or whites?"
"No, just red. Maybe a hint of yellow? The same color as the leaf right now. Just regular fire colored."
"And you are aware that the colors can change?"
I gave it some thought. I remembered reading before that fires would behave differently given the circumstances. A fire in zero-g would be circular. An efficient fuel source would make it white or blue. "I've heard of that, but how does that work with magic?"
"You are the fuel. Your essence, your soul, your stamina and energy. You are the spark that brings it life and the means for it to live."
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"Wouldn't the fire just burn me to a crisp?"
She smiled. "Yes. And that is where discipline comes in. This is why we can't have novice mages learning spells that use white or blue flames. Without knowing how to control the fire, the fuel, or yourself, you would melt your face off."
"Speaking of, did you kill me yesterday?"
"I'm sorry, what?" She tilted her head in confusion.
"I woke up in the—"
"Oh! No, of course not!" She laughed. "I put you to sleep. Both to pacify you and to test you."
"Test me?"
"Sleep spells do not work on players effectively. Their souls in the other world maintain themselves, and for some reason, their bodies here will often vanish after. That's how I knew you were one of us."
I wanted to snap at her, to vent out my frustration, but I knew to be patient with her as she was with me. Whether she was wrong or not, I needed her to teach me magic. "Well, thanks for not melting my face, I guess."
She burst into laughter. "Oh, you are quickly becoming one of my favorites. My humble, cute acolyte."
I felt my face flush, and I looked away. I needed to redirect the conversation. "So how do I learn new skills?"
"Experimentation, usually." The leaf finished burning, and she used a small rod to shift around the ashes. "The possibilities are almost endless. Fireballs, streams of flame, combustion, waves of heat. This all comes with the base fire spell, and you won't always need a scroll to learn something new."
"Almost endless?" I asked.
"Within the law, of course."
The law sounded like a pain in the ass. If I wanted to create a volcano, I should be able to create a volcano. I considered maybe I would need a volcano license. "So I won't need to find a trainer to learn better fire spells?"
"You will. Continue to train, and search within yourself for the answers. You will find your flames become paler and more intense. When that happens, I will teach you Flare."
I felt a twinge of excitement and impatience. "Do I get to learn anything now? I'm level 5 now, right?"
"Yes, you are certified. Once I finish my work here, I'll put in the paperwork. For now, I'll go ahead and get you a few scrolls to get started. She got up from her seat and walked over to a shelf, on it a stack of papers and bound scrolls. She dug around for a few pieces and brought them back to the table. "I'm out of Earth, but I have Wind and Water."
"Earth?"
"Basically you throw rocks at people. It's a shame I'm out of them, you seem to be good at that," she giggled.
I smiled. "I'll make do with this. Thanks." I took the first scroll and looked at it. It was incredibly small, perhaps it shouldn't even be called a scroll - more like a strip of parchment. The paper was velvety to the touch, and it smelled like an old book.
"Why are you sniffing them?" She burst into laughter. "Just put your hand over the top!"
"Sorry!" I stole one more glance at the writing. Like the leaf, it held a single word:
water().
I rested my hand on it, and it flashed into dust. The other scroll, wind(), did the same thing. Within me, something clicked, and without even trying, I knew how to conjure a gust or squeeze a cup of water from my fist. "Thank you, priestess."
"My pleasure," she smiled.
"Do other magic spells exist? Stuff that isn't the usual elements?"
"They do," she said. "But with those, due care must be taken. I urge you to focus on these for the time being, and when you're a higher level, you may have the opportunity for further growth."
"I see," I said, somewhat disappointed.
"Do you have any questions?"
"I do, actually. What’s up with the bearded guy in that picture?”
She followed my glance over to the painting – an old portrait of what looked like a homeless person – and when she realized, she broke into laughter. “That’s Ashma-Cel!”
“Ashy what?”
“Ashma-Cel,” she repeated. “That is the father of all magic, the one who brought it to the people those hundreds of years ago.”
“So is he like a god or something?”
“He’s a wizard,” she said plainly.
“Neat,” I said, already bored. “What else can you tell me about this world?"
"This world? You mean our world. When you talk like that you sound like a player."
"And the players? Isn't it just... I dunno, weird?"
"Yes," she said. "Very." She looked out the window in thought. "The era of peace has ended, and the gate is open again. The 'new season,' as they call it, has just started."
"I don't understand."
She looked back at me, into me. "The players first arrived a little over twenty years ago. From their world, their reality, their dimension. I was just a teenager at the time. When they came, so much changed so quickly."
"Do you hate them?"
"Of course not!" she chuckled. "They're great for the economy, and they bring new ideas and tales along with them. Even certain nations like to use them for warfare since it is apparent they don't fear death. When I have work that needs to be done, I'll send them on a quest to take care of some errands. Since they seem to only be here for about six months, we try to squeeze their worth the best we can."
It didn't make sense to me. A twenty-year gap with no players? No game lasts that long without ever needing a technological overhaul. Whatever the case, she seemed to like them. "So they're good then."
"Not always, my dear acolyte. Like any group of people, some are bad, and some are good. The worst part about them is that they have no sense of consequence."