She stood, stationary, handbag in hand, just an ordinary commoner girl staring at what laid in front. Before her mask-obscured ignited eyes was…well…a building, a rather elaborate and…‘arcane’-looking building. Finding it was rather easier than expected, since all she had to do was utilize the tried-and-tested method of simply asking randoms around until, eventually, one had pointed the right way.

Though…considering how much this building stood out compared to the rest around…she probably would have found it herself…eventually. It was still early in the morning, likewise, giving her plenty of time to see…wherever this path may take her, if anywhere at all.

This facility was one of the many ‘application and assessment centers’ belonging to a continent-spanning education institution dubbed the ‘Mage Collegium’—approximately translated as such, for even in local tongue this ‘Collegium’ used a rather fancy and archaic form of their word for ‘college’. The Collegium was the preeminent institution responsible for mages and their training, seemingly; though, these ‘freelancers’ seemed to be independent from the Collegium, even if formerly associated and having been trained directly by them.

The foreigner knew…some of these details already. Her former associate had not merely drilled social-behavioral patterns into her, but also had provided a basic rundown of…where she even was to begin with and all those associated ‘factoids’…even if such had been left incomplete—never mind all of those…denizen babbling noises the foreigner herself had to endure during her time as a tavern waitress, which had, perhaps, yielded…some useful know-whats.

Regardless, she took a deep breath, relaxing her facial muscles, before finally donning her usual pleasant smile and feinting charm. She promptly made way for the entry door.

Yet, as she did so…

Caw, caw, caw. Suddenly, so many caws and croaks bounced in the air around. So sudden this was, in fact, it admittedly startled her…even if barely so, yet she still paused in an abrupt short freeze. A blackish feathered thing of sorts quickly flew off and away before her snapping attention could lance its way, her attentive eyes…seeing only the feathers left behind.

Oh…just an avian…she realized. Though…how long had it been there? She had seen all manners of such ‘birds’ during her time in this settlement…but hardly a black one that sounded like…well…like that.

Hmm… Oh well, not her present priority nor care. She, once again, relaxed her face muscles as she redonned her pleasant smile and feinting charm, before finally stepping in.

“Hello…? I greet” she announced her presence, slowly and cautiously entering, her eyes peering around as the entry-door closed behind.

Hmm…interesting interior… This facility seemed somewhat typical to her expectations, yet was also…quite esoteric and niche in more ways than not, rather ‘fancy’ too.

In general, the aesthetics invoked local cultural schemas of ‘magical’ and ‘arcane’, with strange esoteric bluish glowing lights in leu of typical candles or oil-lamps dotting and illuminating the space around. Paintings of moments in this land’s history along with portraits of the Collegium’s many important figures dotted the walls around, likewise.

A large yet condensed circular counter-way of sorts was at the center of this chamber, though it seemed…empty. Likewise, all around were dozens of chairs and seats, most empty though a few were occupied, largely by ladies…oddly enough.

Hmm…yet her observing mask-obscured eyes quickly noticed… there was someone…finicking around underneath that counter. Ah, so it was occupied.

She approached; “…hello?” she announced somewhat quietly, halting before the counter.

Immediately, “Huh??” echoed out. A long-bearded old mage of sorts suddenly popped his head out in a peering glance, having been rummaging beneath, looking for something relevant only to him.

Seeing the the masqueraded and seemingly Far Western girl standing before him and his counter, the old mage quickly stood himself up, patting away at his grey mage-robes and donned his typical pointed mage-hat which he had taken off in order to fit his head underneath, seemingly. Next to the old mage, but not in hand, was a wooden ‘staff’ of sorts, leaning against the counter and was close enough to quickly snatch and wield when needed.

Beard, staff, robes, pointy hat, truly: an old mage in all generic ways. Not that the foreigner knew of such stereotypes.

“Apologies for that, I was looking for my… Oh what does it matter… You care little, I bet” the old mage cordially said in apology.

The foreigner smiled faintly, stepping closer to the counter; “Not the problem” she replied with a charm, peering, “I was…uhm…told that if I wanted to become the mage…that I should come to here”.

“Well, yes, that would be correct!” the old mage replied as his eyes too began to peer; “Hmm…a Far Westerner and a lady—obviously” he observed, before sighing; ”Of course…in the greatest of ironies, ladies are all we seem to get these days, haha!” he remarked with a chuckle, “Truly…Lady Fortune plays the sickest of games”.

The foreigner tilted her head… She had no reason to start inquiring but…mundane and pointless curiosity was something she was…usually…prone to. “…I am not very…familiar with these…things… So, what do you mean? What is the…problem with the ladies?” thus she inquired; “and ehm…to clarify, I am from…the New World colony…the very remote one… so I am not the ‘Far Western’ truly…and I am with the ignorance of the many things” she clarified, donning somewhat embarrassed affect.

The old mage chuckled somewhat; “Not a problem, I can…give a little history lesson…if your ears are willing, but it is a rather complicated affair…a tale of our own hubris” he replied cordially.

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“Well…ahem basically: a few decades prior to this day…the Collegium was trying to make itself more appealing and…presentable to our Far Western counterparts, who had taken some interest in our lands. As you may…or ahem may not…know, Far Westerners views magecraft, or what they call ‘sorcery’, as a man-exclusive art and sees the involvement of women as a ‘taint’, something hard to take seriously, and it reflected in their…attitude towards us and our traditions, suffice it to say” thus he began to narrate.

“So, the Collegium, in our hubris, enacted a policy restricting girls and ladies to no higher than level-3 within our 10-level system, allowing only the most exceptional to advance to level-4; any ladies who were of a higher level before the enactment were not demoted, though they were locked in place…but were still allowed to continue their participation in general Collegium affairs and…still had the same privileges becoming of their level…just without the advancement and associated opportunities” he narrated; “the goal of this policy was to…discourage future enrollment and gradually phase them out entirely… but, as you may see, that did not happen: no no, quite the opposite…”

“Instead” he continued on, “ladies and girls left the Collegium in droves and began to contract their magical talents for coin…and for cheap. The Collegium had always ensured that our mages had a dignified, respected, and elite role, one becoming of their level and status…but this policy had only tossed into these lands an unprecedented newfound supply of cheap magical labor…flipping everything upside down; now demand for freelancers rises ever-higher and ladies flock to us in ever-greater numbers…for all those new opportunities that had been so thrusted into being”

“And in the greatest ironies: we have no choice but to train them. If we simply ended this by banning women entirely, freelancers, who are already organizing amongst themselves, would simply start teaching more themselves…and without our standards, care, ethics, and diligence…usurping our traditional role in doing so; yet if we rescind the policies, it would only empower prospecting freelancers by giving them even higher levels of ‘practical’ toys to wield… No…freelancer mages have been firmly entrenched as a profession: they want to retain their independence from us… so, there is no closing this box we had so opened” thus he explained in full.

The foreigner, hearing and processing…largely…this load of information, tilted her head faintly; “I see…but these ‘freelancers’ and your ‘Collegium’, they are both the mages, no? What is…the problem, then? What are the…differences?” she inquired.

“Originally, none. But these days, plenty” the old mage replied frankly; “The mages of the Collegium are scholars and academics, true artists of the magical arts; we understand its power and strive to control its wielding and access; we treat magic with respect, diligence, and care” he explained.

The old mage sat himself down upon a chair, relaxing as he leaned back.

“Freelancers, however…” he continued on, “well…those ladies are pragmatists at heart… They treat their magical talents as some utility and tool to solve ‘practical problems’, and a few are even known to synthesize their magical arts into…new things for ‘practical application’. All respectable endeavors, but freelancers do not have the same…diligence, care, and respect for their talents and are not nearly as cautious and vigilant in their doings” he stated, before sighing; “but…I am no conservative, unlike many of my fellows. Their pragmatism and practicality has yielded many fruits. I think both have our places in this world that keeps changing ever-faster day by day…and both benefit from collaboration and respecting our newfound…niches” he concluded, finally.

He leaned himself up and forward, becoming less relaxed, sharpening his posture; “Well then, enough of that. I take it you are here for that very reason, hmm? You want the ‘employment opportunities associated with having magical skills’?” he frankly inquired.

The foreigner simply looked away, nodding a guilty “…yes”.

The old mage chuckled; “Ha! Of course, so few opportunities exist for ladies these days… Well then, let us get this process on-way with haste” he remarked and said. He immediately took out a rather elaborate and fancy-materialled document of sorts alongside a quilled pen, before promptly writing into a box at the top.

“No need for names; you are number…hmm, ten… Now then, what will first occur before anything is the screening process for the actual application itself: an affinity test and a spellcard assessment; you must meet both our affinity and spellcard utilization standards in order to be allowed to formally apply. If your number is not drawn by the end of the day, you may return tomorrow to continue” he explained; “Any questions?”

Hmm… the foreigner tilted her head, contemplating. These ‘spellcards’ were an obvious no-brainer, even in local tongue, but… “Affinity?” she began to inquire, “can you explain this ‘affinity’ to me? I give the sorry, there is the…bad understanding to me” she requested, somewhat embarrassed, ostensibly.

“Ah, yes, of course, ‘affinity’ may not always be an intuitive idea for some lands… Well, essentially…the capacity to wield magic or any form of arcane, such as even those adventurer ‘skills’ of the Guild, is innate to everyone since all have mana and thus a manafield. But affinity is a base inclination towards a specific school or type of magic; a natural inborn talent passed down by blood. Only those who meet our affinity requirements may be allowed to apply and…we have even stricter requirements for actual selection; we recognize, just to say, dozens of alien schools of magic or equivalent, especially those of the Far West” he explained.

The foreigner nodded her head along as he explained. Ah, fascinating, albeit this was still a rather primitive conceptualization of this phenomenon and tendency; though, regardless it was interesting to see that the locals were, at least, somewhat aware of it.

“Ah, rightly…there is the similar…ehm… idea from where I come” she replied; “Also…that is all for me”.

“Splendid! Well then, you must pay the mandatory nonrefundable fee of one-hundred silvers, or one gold, so that you can begin” the jolly old mage replied and…stated.

The foreigner, hearing this, immediately blanked on the inside, her head tilting rather the tilt; “…fee?” she blurted out, confused.

“Yes, a fee…” he replied, frank.

The foreigner sighed, begrudgingly taking out her coin pouch. Withdrawing her last…gold coin, she handed it to the old mage, who promptly accepted it and placed it into a special coin-drawer of sorts.

Immediately after, he stamped the document and handed it to her. “Keep that on you and take a seat, wait for your number to be called” he instructed as he began to stand up; “now then, I must inform them that we have another… so, do pardon me, young lady” he stated, before exiting out of the counter through a…small wiggly door-thing of sorts, one which opened simply by moving into it, and made way for a door to his right.

She stared at the departing old mage…before staring down at her newly acquired document… So many boxes and lines and spaces to be written on, indeed. Well…that was largely easy, though very costly—extremely so… Ugh…this better lead her somewhere, for she was not in a good position for next month’s rent.

Though…in retrospect, she perhaps should have inquired into…more details, now that she knew…and had just paid…the price-tag for this entire process, especially since there were hardly any guarantees that she would even be allowed to proceed.

She sighed faintly, departing away from the counter as more ladies began to walk in, a line quickly taking form as they awaited for the old mage’s return.