Zeek picked Penny up in his arms as he heard footsteps walk towards the trap door she’d fainted beside. He stood at the bottom of the staircase watching cautiously as Earl Yenson walked down with two others. It was too dark to make out the other figures, but the earl held a blue-colored fireball over his palm for light. Zeek pressed his back against the wall as he tried to calm his mana.

“Were those your creatures?” Zeek asked.

“You knew they were summoned?” the earl replied. Zeek didn’t respond, focusing on keeping his mana at the ready. The earl sighed loudly before holding his hands out.

“I told you both this was an awful idea. I can feel the mana on him, he’s ready to fight,” the earl said while glancing behind him. One of the figures shrugged. He turned back to Zeek and smiled.

“Those were Irith’s creatures,“ he said and gestured to one of the figures. “A summoning spell model of the darkness variety. These two wanted to…test you. You weren’t ever in any danger.”

Zeek glared back. “Penny’s blood says different, Turgi.”

The earl pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up awkwardly before replying. “What’s done is done. What can I do to reassure you? We only want to talk with you. We mean no harm.”

Zeek could see the two figures in the back connecting their mana to spell models on their wrists. He pointed his chin at them. “Tell them to stop feeding mana into their spell models. You too.” One of the figures gasped, then released their mana. The other nodded and followed suit. Turgi let his fireball disappear. Darkness covered the room again.

“Happy?” Turgi said.

“Now talk,” Zeek replied.

“Not here. It isn’t secure. Follow us,” Turgi answered as the figures disappeared up the stairs. Zeek heard the grating of wood after a moment and followed. The upstairs doors were open into an alley. They were still in the dirty part of town, but the street was empty.

He walked a few paces behind them as they led him across the city. The group knew these alleys well; they didn’t come across anyone. A few minutes later, they arrived at the back of an inn. Zeek followed them inside and through a hidden doorway. Below was a room filled with parchment, a table, and chairs.

He placed Penny in a chair near the door and leaned her against the wall. As the three took seats at the table and lit more candles, Zeek finally let his mana calm down. He kept his vision up to be safe and crossed his arms while the room grew brighter.

The one named Irith was a middle-aged brown-haired woman. She wore a silk dress in the style of Lemish noble ladies, more seductive than Lady Yenson liked, and her curves were outlined by golden geometric patterns stitched into the fabric. Her arms and fingers were covered in ornate jewelry that, Zeek realized from earlier, had countless spell models built inside.

The man in the middle looked the same age as Turgi, but he wore burgundy leather armor around his legs and torso. Dark metal epaulets that seemed to suck in the light rested on his shoulders and the hilt of a blade peeked over his back. He had a more leathered look than the other two mages, emphasized by a stern face and yellow eyes like a cat. Zeek noticed the mana in his core reached into both arms; he hadn’t seen any other mages like that before.

All three were at the same level as Turgi. They were archmages, based on the brightness and intensity of their mana. Their faces were different than he expected, though: Turgi was sympathetic, the woman nervous, the stern man suspicious.

The two groups stared at each other until Turgi clapped his hands. “Well, why don’t we start with introductions,” he said gingerly.

Zeek held up a hand, and the woman flinched. “What about Penny? I don’t want her involved in whatever this is.”

The stern man spoke, his voice deep like wind passing through a ravine. “It’s too late for that. We don’t know what she saw.”

Zeek frowned as Turgi interjected, “She unlocked her mana. She’ll be unconscious for a few hours. Plenty of time to talk over her involvement. Now you two introduce yourselves already.”

“Irith Helmuth. Archmage of Shadow, and head of the Order of War Magic’s intelligence division,” she said while trying her best to appear friendly. Turgi nudged the man in the center.

“Antone Grem. Archmage of Earth, and Captain of the Order of War Magic,” he replied.

“And you know me, of course,” Turgi said.

Zeek looked at each of them in turn before speaking. “I’m Zeek.”

“What’s your last name, Zeek?” Irith asked.

“No last name.”

“What about your parents?” she pressed.

“Never met them. I was raised by the woman who found me. Now are you going to explain why you three attacked me?”

Turgi shifted uncomfortably. “Before we get to that, could you tell us what you were doing out tonight?” Zeek noticed Irith lean towards the table as if waiting for something.

“Seemed like a nice night to see the city,“ he replied.

“So you weren’t running away from the academy?” Antone asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Nope, just wanted to have a nice dinner with Penny here and head back. We got lost in all the streets,” he replied.

“And I suppose you always take extra clothes, bedding, and rations when you go out for dinner?” Antone questioned.

“Never hurts to be prepared. The alleys here are pretty dangerous,“ Zeek said, scowling back.

Turgi elbowed Antone hard enough to make the man cough. “Don’t be like that, Captain. We’re the ones asking him for answers. It’s only right we show a bit of good faith.” Antone crossed his arms, mimicking Zeek, and leaned back. He glanced at Turgi and nodded.

The earl wrung his hands and took a breath before beginning. “You can probably guess from our lovely meeting spot that this is an unofficial discussion. We have questions we want to ask you. And I’ll do my best to explain why, but this will all go smoother if we’re honest. Let’s start with an agreement—truthful responses from each party. If you don’t want to tell us something, just say that. We’ll do the same. Fair?”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Zeek considered it a moment, then nodded while keeping his arms crossed.

“We know there is something…different about you. About the way you use magic. We’re investigating this in a very unofficialcapacity. So agreement two will be this: nothing we say here will be reported. We won’t report you, and you won’t report us,” Turgi said.

“What assurance do I have you won’t repeat something here?” Zeek asked.

“We’ll all end up dead,“ Antone replied.

Turgi elbowed him again. “Captain’s correct, but it bears a little explanation. You might recall I was at the opening ceremony today?”

Zeek nodded.

“And I saw how you reacted when the archbishop tested you. And how the orb reacted,” Turgi explained.

Suddenly Zeek flooded his body with mana. At the same time, Irith and Antone did the same, connecting with a spell model again and holding their mana there. Turgi waved his hands at both parties.

“Now now, everyone calm down. He won’t harm us, he’s just a kid. He’s just scared. And Zeek, they won’t do that again. Let’s just all relax and talk this over,” Turgi said in the most soothing voice he could manage.

The archmages released their mana first, and Zeek waited a moment before doing the same.

Turgi waited for the air to clear before speaking again. “I didn’t say that to accuse you. It was the first part that’s important, for now. That feeling when the archbishop’s mana brushed against yours. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

“The feeling of death and superiority rolled into one. I felt like an ant staring down a boot,” Zeek replied, and the archmages all nodded.

“Yes, we’ve all felt it too. Only archmages in the Order of War Magic reach a level where they can sense that,” Turgi explained.

“What is it?” Zeek asked.

“We don’t know,“ Antone answered.

It occurred to Zeek that the only theory he had on the feeling was divinity, which he based entirely on the book’s warnings. But nothing in the library had ever mentioned divinity as a force.

“What do you think it is?” Irith asked.

“Divinity. Maybe the Goddess of Light or something else,” Zeek said.

The archmages froze as he spoke. Antone broke the tension. “Why do you think that?”

“I’m not answering that,” Zeek replied. The captain clicked his tongue before looking at Turgi. The earl nodded at him.

“We believe the same thing,” Antone said.

“Why?”

“We’re also not answering that,” he replied.

Turgi followed the captain’s statement quickly, trying to avoid another awkward silence. “Not that we won’t ever tell you. It’s just better to establish trust incrementally.” Zeek relaxed his arms and placed them on the table, and Irith let her shoulders sag in relief.

“Now, we all felt the same thing. But we all felt it when we were too old and entrenched in the kingdom to leave. Hence,“ he motioned at the other two, ”our investigation.”

“And?” Zeek asked.

“And we’re investigating the state of magic in Numera,” Turgi explained.

“What exactly are you investigating?”

“We believe certain basic magical techniques are being suppressed. We don’t know by whom, or why,” the earl answered.

Zeek did his best not to react, but he wasn’t accustomed to these types of backroom discussions. Irith smiled at him when she noticed his fingers tighten. “You think there’s something wrong too, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Can you tell us what you think is wrong?” Irith pressed.

Zeek watched them while debating what to say. He wouldn’t reveal the book, at least not yet. There was a chance it could be taken from him, and he wouldn’t risk that. But this was a chance to complete one of his tasks, so he focused on the captain.

He pointed at Antone. “You can use mana in both arms equally. Show me.” The stern man lifted both arms and funneled mana into the spell models on his wrists. In his left hand a spike of rock appeared, and in his right hand another hovered inches above his palm. Zeek focused on watching the mana enter the model.

The captain’s mana didn’t flow evenly like Zeek’s. It seemed to beat against an invisible barrier like water against rocks. When he channeled mana into the models, a small opening formed between the captain and the spell. It was like a bridge raising or lowering over a river. He wasn’t truly guiding the mana, just giving it an opening to flow through.

As the captain changed the spike’s size, Zeek watched the channel grow larger and smaller. It rushed into the spell model and fed into a central formation that created the spikes. He realized then that none of the archmages could control their mana like he did. They could only guide it.

“Well?” Antone asked.

“How did you learn to use both arms?” Zeek asked.

“I broke my arm in the academy during my first year. I learned to use the other arm in secret while recovering. I kept practicing as I grew,” he answered.

That’s why he was able to use mana strengthening some, Zeek thought. He could flood his arms with higher quality mana and it would give him a small boost in strength. The technique was shoddy compared to Zeek’s, but it would stand out in a crowd of…sorcerers.

“Have you ever heard the term ‘sorcerer’?” Zeek asked them, thinking back to the book’s explanation. Irith and Antone shook their heads. Turgi tapped his chin before replying.

“I have, but I don’t recall where. I believe it was used as a pejorative in the Lost Age.”

Zeek nodded. “Everyone here is a sorcerer.”

Antone tapped his foot impatiently as Turgi became confused, staring at the table in thought. “Could you tell us what a sorcerer is?” Irith asked.

“Someone who uses spell models,“ Zeek answered.

Antone raised his eyebrow. “We’re all familiar with stories of the Lost Age. You expect us to believe it’s all true? To believe none of them used spell models?”

Zeek smiled; he didn’t know that part of the legend. None of the books in the unrestricted part of the library explained how mages in the Lost Age used magic. They were written more for pleasure than instruction.

“I don’t know how they used magic in the Lost Age. But I can tell you three aren’t manipulating your mana,” Zeek explained.

“Then where did spell models come from? Why are we taught with them? How do you explain our ability to cast spells? It requires mana manipulation to use our models,” Turgi questioned.

“I’ve answered plenty of your questions, now tell me why you’re following me,” Zeek replied.

“You did too many strange things to avoid notice,“ Irith answered.

“Like what? I’ve sat in my room and trained. Nothing else,” Zeek countered.

Antone uncrossed his arms now, put at ease by Zeek’s ignorance. “Boy, you messed up from the moment you got in the recruiter’s carriage. You’ve given multiple stories of how you unlocked your mana. You told your recruiter you were trying to see the mana in that girl’s body. You defeated a second-year war mage candidate in a duel on your first day. You managed to match the speed and strength of a full-fledged knight in bootcamp without a lick of prior training, moving at sometimes superhuman speeds. Let’s not forget you managed to fool the orb in the opening ceremony and pose as a fresh mage who hadn’t unlocked his mana, after you’d had lunch with Turgi and admitted that wasn’t true.” He was holding his fingers up to emphasize each point while Turgi gave him a sympathetic look.

Zeek’s face turned red. “When you put it that way, maybe I made a mistake or two.”

“The only reason you’re in this shithole with us is pure luck. Archibald’s the oldest, least loyal recruiter we send out. And that girl,“ Antone pointed at Penny, ”had the sense to bring her concerns to Turgi. And Sirius has as much sense as a horse thief sleeping off two barrels of wine in a stable. If any of them had gone to a faculty or worse, you’d be dead before the semester’s over.”

“You keep saying I’d be dead. Why? What makes the kingdom’s strongest mages so terrified?” Zeek asked.

“Fear of the unknown,” Antone replied as he unbuckled his sword and laid it against the wall. Zeek gave him a questioning look. Antone ignored him as he sagged into his chair. It was the first time the stern-faced war mage had shown weakness.

“Irith, tell that greasy rat upstairs to make us some grub. This will be a long story.”