It took a month for me to finally track down a place to stay within Colkirk proper. I almost wished I could trust Darius and the rest of his group enough to stay at their camp, but the hard facts were I did not. They seemed nice enough but were strangers and had taken me in a little too quickly for my tastes. Even if they did not steal from me, there was no guarantee that other nearby traders and workers could be trusted.

I had briefly tried to puzzle out a spell to protect my tent, but the truth was I had never stopped to consider such a simple thing. My focus had always been on combat or combat-adjacent magic, and something as basic as holding off intruders had never occurred to me.

The inn I had found was a small, off-the-beaten-path thing, at least relative to the rest of the city. That still meant it was packed at all hours of the night and attached to a nearby tavern on one side, but thankfully, I was housed on the other end. At least I could sleep at night, albeit a little uneasily with all the noise.

After weeks of studying Elvor's legacy, from watching its effects on the weather to stretching my senses to their utmost to pick up something to asking half-drunk mages their opinions, I had learned as much as I could. Unfortunately, the sum total might fit into a ten-page book.

The prevailing theory from the various mages willing to talk with a sixteen-year-old former apprentice was that the Archmagus had created a magic circle. Specifically, he had conjured a bounded field, a concept I had only briefly read about during my time at the Academy.

Magic circles were, in effect, a specialized, immobile enchantment that used runes to direct and magnify a magical effect cast from within its boundaries. Despite the name, they could be any shape, though most preferred rounded shapes for simplicity and a stable mana flow. And despite their limitations, the sheer possibilities seemed near-limitless.

Bounded fields were an even further specialized variant, one that created a region within the circle designed to either keep something inside or keep something out. Some nobles used them to protect their homes, and stories claimed the Academy had a titanic one built deep underground.

However, all of them had the same questions they could not answer. Bounded fields were enchantments. They should degrade over time, and even if Elvor had side-stepped this flaw, it should still require so much mana to be impossible. Yet here we stood, inside a city that felt like a spring afternoon while a blizzard raged just miles away.

Even though I could not find an answer to the problem, these mages gave me a few ideas to explore.

I was a close to mid-range fighter, and nearly all of my magic revolved around that style. Getting within reach to bring my swordstaff to bear was the main priority, and keeping my foes there was almost as important. A bounded field could slow them down, preventing them from escaping or at least forcing them to spend time and mana breaking free.

However, after further consideration and a few questions to those same mages, I set aside that idea.

Magic circles were too specialized and would take months to learn and master. That was time I could invest in other, more fruitful pursuits. In addition, bounded fields tended to drain a lot of mana. I doubted I could afford yet another high-demand spell. Trading one weakness for another seemed a waste of time.

But the worst drawback, and the one that led me to set magic circles aside altogether, was their inflexibility. They might bolster efficiency and allow one to mimic the strength of a more powerful mage, but achieving such results required extensive time and preparation in exchange for a rigid magical effect.

I did not want rigidity. My element already left me limited enough, and I would rather keep my options as open as possible to shift and adapt as needed rather than stick to a single, predictable fighting style.

Of course, I was not a complete fool and spent a few days devising hypothetical circles for future consideration. If I could sidestep any of those flaws, maybe they would become viable.

One evening, I was in a quiet, isolated patch of grass with a single tree hanging overhead. Although I preferred to train alone in my room, a change of scenery helped keep my mind focused and aware.

My black feline friend dozed beside me in the grass, seemingly unaware, as I drew Aether into my body with each breath. I had gotten my newest technique down well enough to maintain it for at least fifteen minutes without issue, though it still took much more focus than I would have preferred. And I still needed to incorporate tempering into the rhythm.

Truthfully, I was irritated that I was not further along, but working past annoyance had become second nature, even if the technique had not.

I exhaled, pushing out the Aether within my lungs, and opened my eyes just in time to see Cat stand with a yawn. He turned towards me, and I smiled at him before following his lead.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

We set off down the road, heading towards the waterfront. I often spent my evenings there, watching various mages to try and glean hints from their native mana signatures. While it did little to help my magical skills directly, I had started to decipher the minute differences from mage to mage and how to pierce shrouds with greater ease.

Cat had taken to riding on my shoulder in what I could only surmise was a quiet protest against walking. I in turn had learned to ignore the weight and the occasional digging of claws into my skin, sometimes wearing an extra layer to help that endeavor.

As we rounded the corner and the lake's edge came into view, I felt a shiver from the feline. I stopped in place and tried to see him from the corner of my eye, only to realize that it had not been physical but magical.

The creature had done something with his Aether, and I had no idea what.

I stared at him as best I could over my shoulder, but he blinked back at me with sleepy, almost bored eyes. My senses fanned out further as I sought some idea of what he might have done, yet I could find nothing. Well, nothing save a noticeable drop in his mana signature.

"What the hell..." I murmured, and Cat yawned at me widely before his eyes drooped shut again.

I stood there for another minute, trying to decipher if it was an act, then shook my head and turned back towards the street just in time to spot a familiar figure not far in the distance.

Wallace, the man who had nearly broken Leon's arm, walked by, passing within a half-dozen steps of me. He wore his hair differently, and his clothes were muted, but I recognized him nonetheless. I had wondered more than once if I had done the right thing with him, and that continuing uncertainty had burned his features into my mind.

Even with my improved talents at sensing, I could not sense a flicker of mana from him. I could recall how he had employed magic to subtly throw off my swordplay and magnified his own, even then showing only the faintest hints to my attuned senses. That, more than anything else, had interested me at the time.

I weighed my options for a moment and then, on a whim more than anything else, followed after him. There were a few things I wanted to know, and I could spare a couple of hours.

Wallace walked to the same tavern as the last time I had been in Colkirk and quickly grabbed a small table near the middle of the room. I paused near the door, placed Cat down, and muttered, "Stay here," before walking over to the man.

I could see the moment when he noticed me. His face shifted between fear, anger, surprise, a flicker of a sneer, and something else I could not place. I stopped beside his table, and he glanced towards the bar, holding up two fingers before turning back to me.

"Be my guest," he said, gesturing across from him and sounding only half-sarcastic.

I raised an eyebrow at his apparently friendly tone, then accepted the invitation, "Thank you."

"We're already friends, aren't we?" Wallace remarked dryly, "Though funnily enough, I don't know your name."

"Vayne."

"Wallace," the mage replied, though the reminder was unnecessary, "I'd say pleased to make your acquaintance, but we both would know I'd be lying."

A woman walked to our table before I could reply. She smiled and placed two glasses filled with a reddish-brown liquid down before sauntering off back to the bar. Wallace picked his up, drinking half of it and sighing with a faint smile. I lifted mine to my nose, winced, and slid it across to the man.

"Suit yourself," Wallace murmured, finishing his first glass before picking up the second, "Now, I can't imagine a lord such as yourself came to visit me for no reason. Here for revenge?"

"No," I replied, "And I am not a lord."

Wallace shrugged, "Sure, sure. Now, what do you want?"

His voice remained close to friendly, and I was almost impressed by his audacity. One might think I had been caught cheating and purposefully hurting his friend rather than the other way around.

"A few things," I started, "But the first is an answer. You injured my friend, a noble and a duke's son. Why?"

"Why?" Wallace echoed.

"Yes, why did you hurt-"

"No," Wallace interrupted, "I meant, why do you care? It's been, what, sixth months?"

I tilted my head to one side, then replied, "Truthfully? Confusion. Plenty of people hate nobles, but you are a mage, smart enough to use magic to enhance your swordplay and do it subtly enough to escape most people's notice. Yet you decided to take a risk. There had to be a reason."

"Too many of these, I'd bet," Wallace tapped his glass with one finger, smiling as he took another sip, "Truth is, your friend's a cocky bastard. Most Academy brats are. I figured he could stand to learn a lesson about humility. Besides, I didn't hurt him too badly, did I?"

I snorted, "I suspect Leon would disagree."

"Probably," Wallace agreed, "I don't think I care much."

Again, I almost wanted to respect the man. I did not because his actions were that of a petulant child, but it was not often I met a mage who spoke so bluntly and openly. It was refreshing, in a way.

I gestured towards him, "Yet you are also a noble."

Wallace smiled, "Of course. Difference is I know where I stand in the world."

"In a city cheating half-drunk people out of their gold?" I asked.

"There! Right there!" Wallace poked the table before him, "You said you're not a noble, but you damn sure act like one. All that cockiness and condescension. Like you're better than everyone else."

"I..." I nearly countered him out of instinct but found that I could not. Was he right? I sometimes strayed into condescension and a sense of superiority. And the truth was, for all the things I might have hated about my former position, I had benefitted almost as much.

I had learned to read and write when my parents could likely do neither. There was never any fear of disease or starvation or a harsh winter claiming my life. Hell, I had only become a mage thanks to Duke Estton and Girem.

Even though I might sometimes ridicule the nobility, I was closer to them than a commoner.

"Look, as 'fun' as this is, let's get to the real business," Wallace said, breaking into my thoughts, "You didn't come here just to hear my thoughts, did you? Either say it and leave me alone, or don't and still leave me alone."

I paused for a few seconds, then nodded, "To the point, then. You used your magic in strange ways I have not seen fully replicated before, and I want to learn how."

Wallace blinked, then tilted his head back and laughed. He continued for a few seconds before tapering off into chuckles.

"And why the hell would I do that? I don't like you. Took weeks for people around here to forget about our little 'incident.'"

"Because I could have done worse, and we both know it," I said bluntly, "Noble or not, you injured a Duke's heir. And, based on the fact that you care about getting coins from performing inside a bar, you are not nearly as popular within your family as he is within his. Call it repayment for my leniency."

"You're crap at negotiations," Wallace remarked, though he did not refute anything I said.

"Fine," I said, "Then, how about this? You complained about Academy training, right? And how unfair it was? For every lesson you provide me about your fighting style, I will, in turn, teach you about something I learned within the Academy."

It was as blunt and unfriendly an exchange as I could imagine. I could tell Wallace did not like me. He probably hated me if the barely suppressed glare in his eyes was any indication. But I finally placed the other look I had not recognized until I realized I had worn it many times.

He was jealous, and I had a good idea of what.

Wallace picked up his second glass, tilted it back, and finished it in a single, long pull before setting it down, "Alright. We meet at sunset here. As long as you're honest with me, I'll show you what I know."

"Perfect," I stood and nodded once, "Until then."

I stood and walked away, leaving the man to his drinks. His dislike of me was mutual, and I had little interest in wasting my evenings with him.

Besides, I had a magical cat who had decided to play around with his mana for the first time, and I wanted to stay very close to him just in case he chose to continue that nasty habit.