"Made a decision yet?" Fred asked as he sat down and placed his meal on the table. He was having some roasted pork, some mashed potatoes, and a loaf of bread.
"Yeah, I think." Adam replied. He was sitting just across the table, facing Baran and Fred. The table was wide enough for three of them, and one more if they had a fourth. The dining area of the worker's house was barren this time, owing to the fact that most were already asleep after a long day of tiring manual labor. They, however, craved a midnight lunch.
Adam had himself some roasted sausages, a bowl of sour soup, and some cooked vegetables. All of it looked and smelled good, and was freshly cooked too.
Surprisingly enough, the kitchen was not locked for the night but instead open for use by anyone. Apparently Baran did not care if his workers ate or drank till the morning came, not as long as they reported for work right after. The workers had a good amount of freedom, more than what Adam expected from a seemingly medieval culture. The variety of ingredients they had at their disposal ensured that every day had a different meal. Their food stores were also refrigerated by magic rocks.
Several candles flickered on the walls, emanating a sweet scent that cast away the usual smell of the sea and the stench of alcohol. Baran and Fred did not drink much, aside from the usual jug of beer, but nothing more. Adam, on the other hand, did not drink at all. It wasn't that he was keeping himself away for religious or health reasons. He just didn't like the smell or taste of anything alcoholic.
"When are you gonna sign up for the Adventurer Guild?" Baran asked before placing a mouthful of sausage inside his mouth.
Adam raised a brow, "I haven't said anything about joining the guild though?"
"But you are. Ain't no way in the damned pits you're working under me." Baran said before swallowing,
"Eh, he could still help us carry some of the heavier cargo, boss," Fred pointed out as he chewed, "Would make things a lot more easier, and faster!"
Baran grunted as he leaned back, stabbing another sausage with his fork and pulling it right before his mouth. "Mages don't work our jobs. They have expectations. Pride. Ego. They'd rather swim in the mud and dirty their fancy robes before they use their gifts for 'mundane works', or so they say."
Fred shrugged his shoulders, "Meh. Good ol Adam here ain't like the others. I can tell. He's a good fella."
Adam smiled, hiding most of his embarrassment behind a full mouth. Baran, meanwhile, grunted.
"All the more reason for him to use his talent to the fullest. A good fella makes a good mage, and good mages are rare."
The conversation carried on, focusing more on the political and social aspects of being a mage. Apparently the ability to wield magic granted these mages privileges and status that were unreachable for the normal person, or commonfolk. They became nobles, high-ranking soldiers, or even rulers in their own right if they had the power and will.
Magic in this world was a big deal, Adam realized that. It was a power that allowed the impossible to manifest, allowing for spells that could either be conjured, summoned, or evoked, bringing forth either the most mundane of things, or the most devastating of abilities.
In a world where many people wielded powers that could change the world, Adam lost his sense of exception, and it terrified him deep inside his heart. Not because he was no longer special, he never thought he was. What terrified him was the fact that anyone could wield these powers and exert their will against those weaker than them. If positions of power could corrupt, then magical power even more so.
It almost happened to him when he was young, but he had his parents to remind him of what mattered, keeping him in line. He was thankful for their guidance and unwavering support, even during times when he was insufferable. They molded him into the young man he now was, and he was proud.
If only they were alive to see him grow to become something more.
"Certainly not all mages are bad?" Adam asked after slurping down the last of his soup, leaving behind an empty bowl.
"Aye, not all. A few do good, mostly the healers and those who lead the academies," Baran said, "Actually, maybe you should join one of the academies! I know a few who have established some campuses in the new world."
Adam doubted that the magical academies of this world knew about psychic power, but he appreciated the suggestion nonetheless. To be fair, it was a tempting offer. He was, after all, supposed to go to college not too long ago. A different one that focused on an innocent degree. Nothing explosive like spells or whatnot. That said, attending a magical academy was still too risky with little guarantee of success.
The conversation then shifted towards magic itself, and Adam was more than eager to listen in on what Baran and Fred knew.
Adam soon learned that magic had an energy source. Mana. Spells, curses, blessings, enchantments, and all other magical abilities and magical items relied on mana to power themselves and manifest. Where did this mana come from? It could either come from the surrounding environment or from within a person. It was, essentially, the fuel that made magic possible.
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Magic rocks, or more formerly known as magic crystals, were concentrations of mana condensed into a stone through magical or natural means. These crystals could be manipulated to a variety of purposes, the most common of which was temperature control. Baran claimed that these crystals cost a lot, but refrigeration was apparently worth the cost they incurred. Fair enough. Food was best enjoyed either fresh or frozen, but never rotten.
That said, these were but only a few reliable facts about magic that most people knew. Mages and wizards seldom shared their learnings to the commonfolk, seeing it as a waste of time and beneath them. After all, why should magic casters teach those who could not do the same? Not unless the commonfolk in question showed a chance of becoming like them.
At least the difference between wizards and mages seemed straightforward enough. Mages were the most common of magic casters. They were the ones who enrolled at academies, served in the military, or sold their services according to their magical abilities. Wizards, on the other hand, were mages that have achieved great power and influence. These powerful magic casters led academies, served as royal stewards, and were essentially the trump card of any kingdom or empire they served. However, this didn't mean that mages and wizards were limited in their roles. A few isolated themselves, devoting their lives to study towards even greater power. Others traveled the world. Many simply succumbed to hubris.
The magical world was deadly and chaotic. Baran and Fred talked about battles between magical casters devastating entire lands and laying waste to villages, towns, cities, and even sometimes kingdoms. Fortunately, there hadn't been a war of such scale for quite some time. By that, Fred meant that it had been fifty years since the last major war. To Adam, that didn't seem like a particularly long time.
Eventually, the conversation drifted back towards Adam's choice for the future. Baran and Fred eyed him with expectation, and it felt like Baran had something planned in his mind.
Adam had now made up his mind. He was sure now, knowing what he knew about the world. Since the choices given to him were: to work a mundane medieval job, enroll in a magical academy, or explore the so-called new world, Adam decided on the third. He was to become an Adventurer, going on quests, exploring the world, and helping others whenever needed. Surely he wouldn't encounter too many magical monsters or beasts, or so he hoped.
Adam raised his arms as if in defeat, "Guess I'm joining the Phoenix Blades."
"Finally!" Baran said, "Thought I'd have to give this to you in your sleep. Here."
Baran handed over a piece of parchment written over with shoddy handwriting in black ink. Despite the fact that the writing system was entirely foreign to Adam, he understood it. It was a letter of recommendation, signed with the seal of the Portmaster of Port Silvershore at the very bottom.
"Take it to the guild tomorrow. They'll know what to do." Baran explained.
It took Adam a minute to read through the contents of the letter. Though Baran was laid back, respectful, and somewhat friendly in his demeanor, the letter said otherwise. It exuded authority and rightful power. Only then did Adam realize that Baran was indeed someone powerful in this town. He just didn't care to flaunt it.
"Wow, you can do this?" Adam asked, slightly amazed.
"You'd be surprised at how much sway our boss here has. People have been trying to pay him for recommendations or favors, practically begging when they're truly desperate. It's great!"
Baran waved a hand in dismissal, "Those brats don't deserve it. No amount of coin will buy my words."
Adam then felt a faint warmth in his heart. "But I deserve it?" He asked.
Baran nodded and smiled, "Aye, you do. You look like a good lad. Ignorant and afraid of the world, but you're willing to live in it nonetheless. I say you deserve a chance."
"Aye, I very much agree to that." Fred added, smiling as brightly.
Adam couldn't help but wonder what these two people saw within him. There was no deceit in their minds, no lies on their tongues, nor was there any hidden agenda beneath their words.
They were just happy to help. In that moment, Adam made a silent promise to himself and to them. He'd repay their kindness back, twofold or tenfold if he could.
They did him good, and he would do the same.
Eventually they had to leave the table behind and go back to their rooms. Fred volunteered to wash the dishes and cookware, leaving Adam free to return to his room in peace.
Adam reached his room on the second floor and closed the door behind him. He left the recommendation letter on the table, placing a small flower pot over the parchment to keep it from flying away.
The flower pot was a gift from Fred. It had a group of daisy flowers. The man adored flowers, telling Adam that the daisy was his favorite to cultivate. It bloomed bright and never alobe.
Adam liked it.
As he moved to lay down on his bed, Adam remembered that he forgot to ask Baran about the large green-skinned humanoid from earlier. Adam was reluctant to call it a man, it didn't seem right. Though his telepathy told him that the humanoid was sapient, sharing a mind similar to that of a normal human, it was still different. Its mind was energetic, to say the least. It was excited and filled with a lust for adventure and combat, placing an inhuman emphasis on martial prowess and honor.
Adam did not understand the strange humanoid at all. It was like the humanoid was predisposed to violence. The large axe it carried on its back rather lent credence to that assumption.
However, the humanoid did not do anything violent as it strolled through the port and into the city. The people around it didn't seem to care much about its appearance, instead focusing on more trivial aspects such as its loud and booming voice. And the fact that it carried a large axe on his back.
Referring to the humanoid as an 'it' irked Adam. It felt wrong, as if he was dehumanizing something or someone who was not too different from himself. Because of this, Adam came to a conclusion. A rather uncomfortable revelation. The green-skinned humanoid was of another species, another race of humanity. He was definitely not a Neanderthal but neither was he a Homo Sapien. The humanoid was something else entirely.
Strange. Very strange. Adam questioned his understanding of this new world even more. So many things were similar to his own world, and yet many more of what this world held was stranger and weirder than the last.
Adam shook his head and sighed. Tonight was not the night to overthink. He needed to sleep. His thoughts and theories were for another time. Tomorrow, after all, was an important day.