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Chapter 1

“A few drinks can help to clear the mind and settle the body. But a few more can help to wipe them both clean, completely. That is except for if you drink some of our Big Blue. One mug and I promise you, you won’t even be able to remember your own name.”

---Corelis Blackwater, owner of the Blue Dragon Inn

“Wake up you lout!” the voice shouted.

Fallon rolled to his side, opening his eyes slowly. He attempted to focus but the light caused pain to bounce around in his skull and he closed his eyes while making an audible grunt. Bootsteps came closer and sounded to Fallon like someone banging on a drum as hard as they could.

“Ah. It’s YOU again.” Without another word, Fallon felt a boot smash into his stomach. “I said it’s time to wake up there drunky. You know the rules. No sleepin in the thoroughfare. Find an alley if you need to sleep it off.”

Once again Fallon began to open his eyes, more slowly this time though. The first thing that came into view was a pair of boots that were tightly laced and looked like they were recently polished. Sturdy leather but made in a standard fashion that could be none other than belonging to a city guard. Fallon knew how the guards would treat drunks on the street so he pushed himself up a bit to at least show he was making some semblance of an effort, until he saw those same boots spin away and walk off toward his next victim.

The next thing he noticed were the familiar blue cobblestones he had seen so many times before. While a random scattering of blue cobblestones were not entirely uncommon, this patch of them were all aligned together in a large circular pattern around the front door of the The Blue Dragon Inn. And that particular inn was a favorite haunt of Fallon’s due to its more lively night time scene and that there was always someone who would be willing to put a wager on just about anything.

Cringing, Fallon attempted to get himself into a seated position and barely succeeded in doing so due to the soreness in his ribs. The pain would fade, but for the time being it stung almost as much as his head did. Still, he tried to shake it off and take in all that was going on around him. He watched as the city guards continued their customary rounds and attempted to remove any of the drunks from the streets. Scurrying just behind them were a flock of children who idolized them, gesturing and marching as if they were part of the regiment right along with them. At various corners there were merchants setting up their wares for the day, setting up for the crowds that were sure to come. Within an hour, Fallon guessed, these streets would be packed so much that you would almost constantly be bumping into people while trying to traverse it.

Fallon took a deep breath in through his nose, catching the hints of something cooking nearby. He could make out the scent of meat cooking, likely spiced sausage, known as kabota, that was a staple of the capital. On one hand it turned his stomach slightly to even think about food but he also knew he needed to get something into his body. He patted along his robes looking for his coin purse but was alarmed when he didn't feel it in the normal spot. Panicked, he patted all along his body again, finding nothing.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” a feminine voice whispered from behind Fallon. Startled, he spun quickly to find an Elf nearly face to face with him. “Smells like someone had quite the night. What were you doing, bathing in the cask of ale?”

“Sillenestra, what are you…” Fallon began, but Sillenestra’s slender finger hit his lips, stopping him from continuing.

“Oh silly little human. You should know by now that my eyes and ears are everywhere in this town and I will always know what’s going on with someone I care for.”She removed her finger from his lips, but didn’t move back further from him.

“I have been meaning to ask you how in the world you ended up having so many connections throughout the city, but I think right now I should be asking some other questions. Like maybe what exactly happened to me last night? I seem to be missing all of my coin, a good chunk of my memory, and for some reason I woke up on the cobblestones to meet with the boots of a very disagreeable guard,” he responded, while pulling up his shirt to show where a small purple welt had begun to form.

“Guards… what a bunch of power hungry little….”

“Let’s not get sidetracked here. The little bit of bruising to my body is fine, but the ego and the pocket? Well those are a little harder to heal.”

Chuckling, Sillenestra replied, “Well, so I am told, you were betting a little wild but had a great run of luck at the Scarabs table last night. Good game, it is, as long as you can keep your wits about you. I guess you had your wits for quite a while, until someone swapped your normal ale for a mug of the Big Blue.” Sillenestra shook her head at that. “Powerful stuff. Enough to knock a Dwarf for a loop. I’m happy I happened to have a friend here, or else you may have ended up losing more than your purse last night. Though that part couldn’t be helped, nor could we help the sleeping on the cobblestones thing. You humans weigh quite a bit and my friend isn't exactly the strongest.”

Sighing, Fallon looked directly into Sillenestra’s green eyes that sparkled like an emerald in the sun. Her jet black hair along with her eyes stood in stark contrast against her pale skin, but it all stood out equally against her crimson robe with embossed gold trim and the golden emblem of a sword touched by flame. In the past he thought there might be some chance for them to be together, but the robe and its markings signified that she was training as a Mageblade. That status made her one of the rarest magic users in all of Althiear, with the ability to imbue weapons with magic, but it also came along with one major downfall - access to the magic depended upon the individual maintaining celibacy.

“Fallon? Are you there? Hello?” Sillenestra questioned.

“What?” Fallon looked back quizzically. “I’m right here, a foot in front of you.”

“I’m well aware of where you physically are. Mentally though it's a little shaky. You were just standing there in front of me for a good twenty seconds, staring with this glassy look in your eyes. It was like you were here but you weren’t. At one point I thought you might try and kiss me.”

Blood flushed to Fallon’s face quickly, in contrast to his own slightly tanned skin, blonde shaggy hair, and bright amber eyes. He turned quickly away in hopes of hiding his embarrassment, as well as to search for some semblance of a comeback. All he could come up with was a single statement, “I just haven’t been able to shake off last night’s drinks and it's making my brain all hazy. And hazy isn't going to cut it with the upcoming tests at the Greyguard Towers. While I feel the magic, I just can't seem to connect with it in the way that other people do.”

“So I have heard,” Sillenestra said matter of factly. She stepped to his side and looked off in the same direction as him. “I know it may not mean much but being touched by magic and recognizing it is uncommon. I believe the census they pulled was one in a thousand people in the empire are sensitive to magical forces and even less are able to truly harness it. Everyone has their strengths. Perhaps yours aren't within the arcane arts? Have you thought about looking into something more druidic? Perhaps necromantic? Unless of course you want to be one of the God’s bootlickers who have to pray and worship every single day.”

“No, Sill.” Fallon responded, dropping the formality. “I have tried just about every potential school of magic and even the ones involving clerical powers. I can do them all on a very basic level. I’m at the top of my class in knowing the verbal components and the physical signs. I just can’t push past and do anything of worth with specialization.”

“See, at least that's something.” She paused before continuing, deep in thought. “You know, it's really quite unique to find someone who has an affinity for all realms of magic. Like not just the arcane, divine, or natural based. You can sense it all and can even do it all. People just don't do that, Fallon. It really is extraordinary,”.

“Well that comes off as pretty rich, coming from the person who legitimately is part of the most rare and prestigious magical affinity.”

Sillenestra didn’t answer immediately, but instead stood in silence and took in the sights and sounds around her. Fallon had been the first person she met when entering the city of Straughthaven three years prior and they had become fast friends with their affinity for magic. It shook her to the core to see him not able to fulfill his dreams of becoming a mage and at times she felt guilty about being a Mageblade, though one did not get to choose their magical path unless they were gifted enough to have strengths in multiple schools. She knew he was unique, but he insisted that not being able to excel in any magic was a deathknell to his goals.

Placing a hand on Fallon’s shoulder, Sillenestra began, “It will come. Just give it some time. Not everyone has things click right away but I’m confident you'll get there.” She paused, but eventually continued, “And at least you know if you can’t seem to make it work, you could always go back to the Scarabs again.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Smirking, Fallon rebutted, “Just keep the Big Blue away from me and maybe you’re right. I would make a world class Scarabs player. But if I am going to be able to see if I can make it as a mage, I should really get myself to the Greyguard Towers to study the duels today.”

“Or the bathhouse first,” Sillenensta responded while holding her nose.

“Ah yes, and I would be doing that using what funds, Sill? In case you have forgotten, I seem to be without some pretty important metals.”

Smiling, Sillenestra reached into her cloak and pulled out a silver coin. “This should be more than enough to get you a bath, get your clothes cleaned, and maybe get something in your stomach.” She placed the coin in his hand and before he said anything further finished with, “You can just owe me one.” Then with a flourish of her robes she turned and rushed off away from Fallon.

“Peculiar,” Fallon said to himself while feeling the smooth metal in his hand. He thought about the many interactions with Sill and how she always seemed to be in the right place at the right time to help him. Even their first meeting in the city was one where she had saved him from humiliation. And every time she lent a hand she ended the conversation abruptly with the same words - you can just owe me one. “I feel like I am going to end up in debt for all time at this rate,” he said to no one in particular, “but I imagine that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.”

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Sillenestra spun through streets and alleyways, moving with a singular purpose. She dodged in and out past moving carts, children playing, and the odd drunk who was still working off the previous night’s booze. None were much of an obstacle at all under normal circumstances, but she also wouldn't allow anything to get in her way of reporting back to her superiors. She sprinted at top speed through the remainder of the market area, ducking under a lesser known overpass until she reached an archway with a sunburst pattern carved into it.

Before moving through, she took a look over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. When she was confident she was not, she moved just beyond the archway and pulled on a loose brick that shifted out slightly to reveal a small wooden lever. Ignoring the lever, she instead slid her hand into the gap a little further, letting her fingers feel along the edge until she felt a small depression in the stone. She pushed the depression slightly until it gave way and she heard an audible click in the distance down the dark passage. She moved the brick back to its original position before moving off into the darkness.

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The Greyguard Towers, located in the northern most reaches of the city of Orienthel, were three massive structures that lived up to their grey namesake. The structures themselves all spanned one hundred and fifty feet into the air while each sat on a perfectly square base and they sat in a perfect triangular formation. Most notably they all appeared as though they had been carved out of a single piece of stone, smooth all the way from the base all the way to the apex. However the differences in physicality came at the very top as one was rounded off in a semicircle, one was topped with a pyramid structure, and the final one ended in a triangular top.

Aside from the physical aspects of the towers, each tower was utilized for a differing sphere of magic. The rounded apex building housed those whose pursuits veered toward the studies involving nature, mostly druids and those who had affinity for animals. The pyramid topped tower was for those who had interests in the divine and the damned, with the inhabitants mostly composed of paladins and clerics. Those interested in the arcane arts, mainly mages, took up residence in the triangular topped tower.

Directly in the center of the three towers was a smaller triangular depression that was flanked by stone benches on all sides. The depression was more commonly called the “proving grounds” to anyone who attended any of the three towers for tutelage. Once each week those aspiring to become full fledged magic users would duel one another under the supervision of at least two instructors of the Fifth Octant to attempt to prove their worth and earn a higher place in their class.

Sixteen apprentices stood anxiously by the proving grounds, waiting for the signal to take their place within the triangle. Among them stood Fallon, freshly washed thanks to the coin from Sillenestra. He gazed over and took notice of the three instructors that had gathered today to witness the duels, two of the Fourth Octant from the nature tower, and one from the Third Octant of the mage tower. They talked among themselves for a few minutes before settling into place to oversee the duels. The two Fourth Octant members took their seats, while the highest ranking among them moved to the forefront of the crowd.

“Today’s duels will follow the customary method. Since there are sixteen of you, you have been set into groups of four. The victor from each group will then duel again in a second round so that we may find the victor of the day,” explained the Third Octant mage. “Physical combat is forbidden as this is a test of magical prowess only, though use of familiars or other conjured items are allowed and striking a familiar or summoned creature is perfectly acceptable. Disqualification will occur for anyone who does not abide by this, and depending on the severity of the offense could also mean expulsion from the apprentice program, or worse. For today’s purposes, I, Silas Oakthorn of the Third Octant of the Arcane, will be the final judge on potential discrepancies within the battlefield.”

Silas paused here to let his words sink in with the apprentices. None were too vexed by this statement though and most stood there looking simply bored or anxious. The speech the mage was giving was the same speech they gave every time, so while it may have had an impact the first time they heard it, it had now faded and just became a routine. The members of the current apprentice group also had never seen anything beyond an accidental slap or elbow and that didn't even rise to the level of disqualification, making the words ring even more hollow.

“Once the duels begin, the anti-magic bubble will surround the proving grounds to protect all of those outside of the duels, and it will only be released once a victor has been decided. As you all know these battles are non-lethal thanks to our predecessors in the divine tower, though that does not mean they are painless,” Silas paused for a moment to add some gravity to his statement. He then continued, “And please remember, with two rounds today you perhaps should not utilize all of your tricks in the first round as we all have our spell limits each day. It would be a shame to win the first round only to have nothing to show to the other victors in round two. After all, this is not just who can be the best once, but also who can strategize properly.”

With a flourish, Silas turned and moved to the bench closest to the other observers for the day. He again turned back to the apprentices and surveyed the group in its entirety. When he had taken the full picture in, he raised his hands and chanted a few simple words while making the necessary hand gestures for his spell casting. Small wisps of blue, green, red, and yellow rose from his fingertips and formed into tiny orbs before floating to each one of the contestants. They came to rest in front of the individuals but remained suspended in the air.

“Your groupings are based on your orb color. We will go in order with the blue group first, then green, yellow, and finally red.” he said resolutely. “Blue members, you have two minutes to make your final preparations and get into the proving grounds. As always, I wish you all luck, as it is time to prove your worth.”

Red orb floating in front of him, Fallon made his way to one of the benches and watched as everyone else began to do the same. He scouted each person within his own group and noted that there were two aspiring druids and a mage in the making. Other groups were split up with differing configurations, though none of the apprentices had been able to figure out the rhyme or reason to it.

“Ello mate,” a tall slender boy with a shaved head and long crooked nose said, startling Fallon. “Names Milo. Milo Ak’Thurnen. Just started at this ‘cadamey and I’m wonderin’ if you have any tips for this provin’ grounds thing."

“Oh, hi there,” Fallon stammered. “I, uh, I’m Fallon. And yeah I can give you a few tips. But it’s best to wait until they begin so I can explain things practically. Have a seat though, it will begin in a minute.”

Milo complied, setting down a satchel that Fallon had not originally noticed. A yellow orb floated next to him though he seemed to pay it no mind. Instead he sat forward completely focused on the other competitors. As each person with a red orb made their way into the proving grounds he studied them intently.

“So where are you from then?” Fallon asked.

“Cheriskan. Countryside though. Beautiful rollin ‘ills. Lotsa flowers and the like. ‘Bout you?”

“That's half a world away from here! I’m from near here actually. Close enough to see the towers and always dream about being a part of things here. At least that part of my dream has come true.”

“While I coundn’ see it, the towers is my dream too.”

“Something we have in common then. Both here to cast spells and become something more than we could be on our own.”

“Cheers to that mate,” Milo responded with a smile. “‘Eres to taking this place over.”

Fallon returned the smile and nodded. One last person with a red orb was still hanging about speaking with one of the other mages. To Fallon it looked as though she was having a bit of an argument with the other mage but from the distance they were at he couldn’t make out what they might be saying. He thought about casting something to listen in but thought better of it, knowing he may need every spell in his arsenal if he was to at least compete a bit this week.

“So ‘ow does it all ‘appen?”

“Okay, so once the last person is there in the grounds, one of the higher Octant members will activate the runes to seal them in. You will see a kind of shimmer in the air to enclose the grounds and keep the combatants from being able to cast initially. It's all precautionary of course. I guess at one time they didn't have that in place and someone got hit with a stray spell before it started,” Fallon explained. “At the same time they activate another of the runes that make it so that no spells in there will be able to be lethal and release the spell hold so the fight may begin. I don’t know how that one works beyond putting the person in a stasis bubble where they can’t be affected.”

“Sounds powerful.”

“Whatever they did to make it happen like that is beyond powerful. From my understanding it took years to make and it has to be recharged. It’s why they only hold these duels once a week. But enough about that. Look,” Fallon pointed to the area in front of them, “the last of the red grouping is now in the proving grounds.”

As the final red group member stepped into position, Silas stood. He then began again moving his fingers in a much more intricate pattern while slowly chanting. Along with his actions, one of the two other Octant members followed nearly the same pattern. Both continued for twenty seconds then simultaneously pushed their arms forward, and with that a shimmering aura descended around the proving grounds.

“And so it begins,” Fallon commented.

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