As the races grew and prospered, the dragons grew in knowledge and power alongside them. Like their mother Illunia, the dragons had an innate hunger, a remnant of their connection to Faust through her. Some hungered for knowledge, like her, others for power or wealth.

-Unnamed Dwarven Text

—

The conversation hadn’t gone as terribly as Kole had feared—it had been an abject failure as far as getting a mentor went, but as far as general conversations went, it went well.

The Stormcaller had recognized both Kole’s garb and greeted him warmly, and asked after his father’s clan name. The wizard didn’t seem to have the resentment some ship clan members did to ‘sanders’—that is, clan members who leave the clans to live on land. Or, in Kole’s father’s case, deep beneath the sea.

The robed wizards had picked up the hints of his Illandrian accent and asked endless questions about his home.

“I hear the clarity potions actually taste good if the deep whale excrement is fresh. Is it true?” one had asked.

Kole grimaced and shook his head.

“If anything, it’s worse."

Eventually, it got around to the topic of mentors, and while they were all very interested in hearing about Kole’s particular magical struggles, they were not looking for a project. The Stormcaller was recruiting for his clan as part of a school-sponsored exchange program where adventuring students can live at sea for the semester. The orc shaman was looking for a student pursuing summoning magic, and the two elderly wizards were just here for the free drinks.

When it became clear he would find no mentor here, he excused himself politely and sought out a drink of his own while he scanned the room.

Across the room, he spotted Gray’s group all chatting with a group of adventurers. Gray was animatedly telling a story, holding the attention of the other team, while Mouse was stuffing her face with the little sandwiches going around. Harold kept looking across the room, and following his eyes, Kole found Zale to be the object of his attention. Esme, in turn, kept glancing over her large mug from Gray’s story to Harold, growing more sullen and drunk each time.

Kole scanned the room looking for anyone giving off a wizardy vibe, and spotted a familiar old man. An old human man, a blue-skinned female Air primal, a gray-skinned orc, and a gnome all sat talking amongst themselves. They were the hardball team he’d watched lose to the team with the druid.

Come on Kole, it wasn’t so terrible last time. He told himself, working up the courage to approach.

Thoughts of being left without a mentor and being forced to return home at the end of the year spurred him onward. Everywhere he looked students were approaching teams, introducing themselves. So long as he didn’t do anything ridiculous, he wouldn’t stand out in anyone’s memory.

Before he could decide, the old wizard waved at him and beckoned him over.

Kole looked behind himself, and finding no one, realized the gesture was for him.

“I was worried you’d been petrified,” the wizard joked. “I was about to call for a Blessed."

“Socially petrified maybe,” Kole said, extending his hand. “Hi, I’m Kole Highridge.”

“Highridge?” the wizard asked with a brow raised. “That’s a Stormcaller’s outfit you wear.”

“My father was a Stormcaller, clan Teak, but he left it when he met my mother,” Kole explained.

“Teak, now that's a strong ship clan name,” the wizard said, shaking his hand. “I’m Master Karl Miller and this is my team, the Blue Dragons.”

The rest of the party raised their glasses in salute.

“That's an… interesting name,” Kole said.

The wizard chucked.

“We let my grandson pick the name. He wanted to call it the Blue Ninja Dragons, but that was a bit much.”

“I didn’t know adventuring parties picked their own names,” Kole said. “I thought they had to earn them.”

“That is true, but we aren’t an adventuring party. We’re a hardball team. I retired from adventuring years ago, and the rest of these aren’t regular members of any parties. Are you interested in the sport?”

Kole thought about his answer. He enjoyed watching the matches, but did he want to play?

No. That would only take time away from my goals. Any Will spent in a match is Will that could be spent refining a spell.

He decided on a more diplomatic response.

“I enjoy watching, but I have a rather full plate with my studies at the moment. Are you looking to mentor a student?”

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The wizard gave a very unwizardly shrug.

“We are always open to recruiting junior members. We watch the student league each year and offer the winning teams spots, but so does everyone else.”

Kole filed that knowledge away. He wasn’t interested in pursuing hardball as a career like this team, but he’d entertain the idea if it could get him a mentor and allow him to stay in the academy. He excused himself politely and looked for more potential mentors.

Movement caught his eye, as Harold pushed his way awkwardly through the crowd. Kole followed him with his eyes and watched as he caught Zale’s attention and drew her away from her group. He tried to get close enough to overhear, but couldn’t push his way through the crowd fast enough. When he reached Zale, Harold was gone and she had an uncertain smile on her face.

“Did you tell him off again?” Kole asked.

“No,” she said, her smile growing. “He apologized. We’re going on a date. In public.”

“Oh… great,” Kole said, not at all feeling great about it.

***

Kole found he lacked the energy to motivate himself to talk to strangers after that. He walked around aimlessly, taking advantage of the free food and drinks—but mostly the drinks—and never working up the courage to approach anyone else. As the event began to wind down, Zale found him.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Definitely.”

The pair left, heading back towards campus with various degrees of inebriation.

“I used to have a magic doorknob,” Zale lamented.

“What?” Kole asked, unsure if his own thoughts were addled or if Zale’s words made no sense.

“I had. A Magic. Doorknob,” she repeated slower. “I could open a door to my room from anywhere. It was nice.”

“What happened to it?” Kole asked, agreeing that it would be very nice at the moment as he watched the buildings sway around him.

“I lent it to Harold… Mom didn’t like that,” Zale said, but then quickly amended. “But it wasn’t like that! He was going on a trip and it was so he could return quickly. Mom didn’t believe me.”

“Why?”

“Because she thinks everyone is as obsessed with butts as her,” Zale said and began to laugh.

“No, I meant why did you forgive him.”

“Oh… I don’t know. He seemed really sorry. And I still kind of like him—even if I know I probably shouldn’t.”

The conversation died after that, and Kole couldn’t get his mind off the idea of a magic doorknob, and all the possibilities it could bring.

“Hey! Look at the void monster!” a gruff voice slurred from an alley as they passed.

Kole and Zale spun around lazily to see the threat.

A group of four human men walked out into the dim lighting of the street, each holding a glass bottle in one hand and some sort of bludgeon in the other.

“I thought all of you were all off on yer little island,” a less drunk voice called out. “Looks like we are going to teach you lot to stay away all over again.”

Before Kole or Zale could register fully what was happening, the lead man charged at them with his club raised. He swung down at Zale, and she sidestepped out of its path. The club hit the cobblestone road and rang out a loud clunk. Zale gave the overbalanced man a shove, and he fell onto his butt, shattering his bottle.

“Oh, that was a mistake!” the man yelled.

Kole laughed and Zale giggled.

“Weren’t you going to kill her?” Kole asked the man.

Dimly he realized that was probably not the smartest thing to have done.

The other three ran at them as the first regained his feet. Zale kicked him in the face before he could stand, and drew her dress sword, pointing it at the approaching men. Her hand was steady, though she was swaying a bit in her inebriation.

They paused briefly, but then all at once they threw their bottles at her. When Zale flinched, trying to block the projectiles, one of the men ran at her and tackled her to the ground. She hit the stones hard, and her sword flew from her grasp. The man atop her tried to bring his fist down on her head, but she vanished into a cloud of black dust, and reappeared a moment later a few feet away, still lying on the ground. The fist hit the stones, and Kole heard bones break before the man let out a howl of pain.

“She is a monster!” one of them called.

If Kole had been more sober, he would have reflected that the violence they’d thus far threatened was rather extreme for a young girl they had only suspected to be a voidling.

The remaining two had been approaching him, but both turned to look at Zale where she reappeared. Kole took advantage of the distraction and turned invisible.

“Huh? Where’d her boyfriend go?”

The two heading for Kole looked around wildly, and he picked up the club that the first had dropped. That man still lay moaning, holding his face and a large amount of blood was beginning to pool around him.

“He ran! Let’s get the voidling!”

All three turned to Zale and began to close in on her. By then she’d regained her feet, but her sword was out of reach. Her eyes locked onto Kole, where he stood invisible, but she didn’t need Willsight to see him, for the club he’d picked up was still visible. He tried to extend the invisibility to the weapon, but his drunk mind couldn’t focus on the already difficult task.

Zale backed up, arms raised in a martial defense pose Kole had seen her practice.

All three charged her at once and she vanished to smoke again, causing them to run through her. She reappeared a few feet away. One man reacted quickly and grabbed her wrist. She twisted out of the grip, bending the man’s arm in a direction it wasn’t meant to go. As one of the men moved to swing his club at her as she retreated, Kole swung his own stolen weapon at the man’s head.

Kole’s target was taller than him, and the blow lacked leverage, but anyone would fall when being struck in the head. The man staggered and then fell, and Kole’s invisibility lapsed.

“Argh!” the fourth man yelled as he swung at Kole.

Warned by the shout, Kole turned just in time to block the swing at his head. The assailant kept up his attack though. Overhead swing after overhead swing. Kole held the club up over his head, but the man was much stronger than him, and the club flew from his hands, sending Kole to the ground.

Kole looked and saw that Zale’s assailant had somehow gotten her in a headlock, and for whatever reason she wasn’t vanishing. Reaching into his vault, Kole built the construct for Magic Missile. His drunk mind struggled to open the bridge, but he threw all his remaining Will at the task, and three darts of distorted air shot from his hand into the back of the man holding Zale.

The man who’d beaten Kole to the ground stopped short, eyes wide in horror at seeing the act of magic. He looked to his companions, and then back at Kole before turning and fleeing. When Kole turned to find Zale, she was tending to the man he’d just shot. She’d cut the back of his shirt open and was applying pressure to the large hole Kole had made in his back.

“Help these morons!” she shouted.

Kole looked at the two men lying beside him. Both seemed to be breathing, but there was a lot of blood. He noticed then that he was wet. Frantically he checked himself over for wounds but found none. He held his hands up the light and saw them coated in an oily black liquid.

Oh no…

He stood up and walked more into the light, and saw his expensive ink vial had broken in the fight, and spilled all over his equally as expensive clothes, completely ruining both.

“Flood.”