Antone tore a hunk of cheese from the center plate while the other archmages stared at the grimy glasses of wine set in front of them. After chewing loudly, sucking down a swig of something like mead, and snorting at his two finely dressed companions, he began his story.

“I’m not from a noble family. Not like these two,“ he said, gesturing side to side while wiping his hands. “I grew up in a fishing village a few days’ trip down the river. Only a few families lived there, not enough to make an event out of testing like the bigger places did.”

Zeek noticed Irith studying him while Antone spoke. “When I got to the academy, I couldn’t hardly read. Never mind magic. It’s a common thing to see; you might run into a few scumwater mages like myself in your class.

“Now just cause we aren’t sophisticated,“ Zeek saw Turgi grin, ”doesn’t mean we’re weak. I was wrestling swamp bass and sturgeon while this lot was reading literature and having garden parties. So the academy assigns a tutor, usually another student, to teach basics. I got stuck with Turg.”

“Not my best student,” Turgi interjected. Antone chuckled after taking another swig. He wiped foam from his mouth and spoke again. “Well, I’m sure you know about the Yensons. Can’t even wipe your boots on the front step before the succubus or Turg’s kid start telling you about all the paintings.” Irith laughed this time, and Turgi frowned.

“Irith comes from a mage family. So did our friend Hendricks. They were buddies of Turg’s, and it wasn’t long before we were thick as crewmates in a storm. All of us became war mages, using our affinity to go on adventures and build a reputation.”

“Who’s Hendricks?” Zeek asked.

“We’ll get there, boy. A few things happened to make us question our…education. It started my first year when I broke my arm. What do you think happened when they learned I could use spell models on both arms?”

“They wanted to learn how you did it?” Zeek guessed.

“That’s what we thought would happen. Instead, I spent the next year getting examined by priests three times a week. Then told what I was doing was dangerous and I was a freak of nature. And to never tell other mages about it. It’s an open secret now, what I can do. But the method by which it happened, only you, the people in this room, and the clergy know.”

“I’d be suspicious if they told me that,” Zeek added.

“We were suspicious. An archmage or two pried into it when we joined the military. But none had seen it before, so we shrugged it off as a fluke. Then before long, we were called archmages too. You can guess what happened then,” Antone said.

“You felt the archbishop’s mana,” he answered.

“Not just the archbishop. Every bishop who joined our units. Even felt it on the royal family when we attended meetings. Scared the shit out of us, so we asked a retired war mage about it. Told us to mind our business and not question it.”

“I believe he actually told us to fuck off and never visit him again,” Turgi added.

“You all do have that effect on people,” Zeek replied.

Antone smirked. “You’re one to talk, kid. Anyhow, the whole thing didn’t make us feel much better. But we kept quiet, the old archmage had us spooked. The next part is…Irith, you explain.” He motioned to her while reaching for another piece of moldy cheese.

She swirled her glass of wine. Zeek could see marks another patron’s lips had left on it. After smelling the glass, she set it down while scrunching her nose. “My family were all archmages of shadow. You can guess from our spar earlier, it’s an affinity that lends itself to working in darkness. For the kingdom, that means working with the intelligence divisions. I grew up with a father who was oddly absent during every newsworthy event and never spoke about his work. Once I graduated, he indoctrinated me to the division.”

“I thought you were an adventurer?” Zeek asked.

“I was, but ‘agent’ would be a more accurate term. We chose locations I needed to do reconnaissance or find a secret. I rose through the ranks since then, but even in the early days I had access to state secrets. One of those stood out to me,” she explained.

“You all are trying to make sure I’m good and dead if I talk, aren’t you?” Zeek said before she continued.

“Yep,” “Yes,” “Right,” they all said at once.

He covered his face. “Sorcerers really are shit.” Antone laughed as Irith spoke again. “Don’t be so coy. You’ll find this next part interesting. They asked me to hunt for people claiming to have artifacts from the Lost Age.” Zeek put his hands down and leaned forward.

“I told Turginet, Antone, and Hendricks about the mission. I was permitted to do that since they’d be accompanying me while I used adventuring as a cover. It also helped that Turginet had a…shall we say unhealthy fascination with the Lost Age,” she explained.

“I saw him pay ten gold coins for a chamber pot once because he thought a mage of the Lost Age shat in it,” Antone added.

“Just get on with the story,” Turgi said, waving his hands as if shooing away a dog.

Irith smiled. “The academy teaches that the Lost Age is fantasy. Stories of powerful mages that were exaggerated over centuries. I was told the same thing when given the mission. They emphasized how dangerous untested magic devices could be. More than once it was suggested that enemy kingdoms liked to create traps to kill unsuspecting mages.”

“You believed that?” Zeek asked.

“I did. We all did, at first. For all the strangeness we’d seen, enemies selling poison was a believable story. Only Turginet believed the Lost Age was real, well, him and Hendricks. But the devices people claimed to have were so fantastical, they defied modern magical knowledge,” she explained.

“Defied it how?” Zeek wondered.

“Mana batteries that would double a mage’s supply. Devices that could teleport armies across continents. Books that contained ways to cast spells we’d never heard of. And those were the tame items; nearly all of them were fake,” she said.

“Nearly?”

Turgi leaned forward. “That’s where I come in. Irith and I had a little deal. She indulged me, really. I was allowed to examine the devices before we turned them in. It was, I thought, a harmless hobby. And these items were purchased, stolen, or looted from charlatans all over the kingdom. Weeks on the road gave ample time to run a few tests. Ah, the first one I looked at was…”

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Zeek stopped him. “You found something real.”

Turgi nodded. “It was an object with a round base, a narrow stem, and three wide blades attached to a cone at the top. If you injected a bit of mana into the base, the blades would begin to turn. A dial on top adjusted the speed. It was exquisitely crafted from a grey material we’d never seen before.”

“What’s important about that?” Zeek asked.

Turgi frowned. “The captain’s sword, for example, relies on runes that are carved in the blade. The runes are spell models that he can inject with mana. Enchanting today is just attaching spell models to a material that benefits from it. Non-mages can’t use them at all. But anyone could use this device, including the non-mage we stole it from.”

“How do you know it wasn’t some other place’s invention?” Zeek questioned.

“Because the clergy and royal investigators questioned us for hours, then visited us three times a week for months. We were stuck in Lem the whole time under constant watch,” Antone replied.

“Just like with your arm?” Zeek asked, and Antone nodded.

Irith shifted in her seat while she adjusted her dress. “The entire experience rekindled our suspicion. The questions they asked were…unusual. They asked if our mana was behaving erratically, if we felt it going to limbs we’d never used for spellcasting, if our muscles felt stronger when casting, if our mana cores felt faster.” She counted the questions on her fingers.

Zeek raised an eyebrow. “They were asking if you were like me?”

“Yes, but we didn’t know that at the time,“ Turgi explained.

“Something else happened?” Zeek asked.

Antone took a large swig, draining his mug while Irith and Turgi glanced at him. “Hendricks happened.” Zeek could see Irith wince in pain, and Turgi’s fidgeting stopped as he clenched his hands together.

“Hendricks was a noble brat. His family were healers, and he was one of the best. He also had a big fucking mouth and a love of conspiracy stories. This whole Lost Age business had him going crazy. Turns out his last theory had something to it.”

“Last?” Zeek pressed.

Antone nodded slowly. “Last. It got him killed. Not that the kingdom will ever admit it. He got hold of some old plans of Lem. Spent the months we were being watched poring over them and told us he thought there was an old city from the Lost Age hidden underneath the palace or fort, whatever the fuck they call it.”

Zeek suddenly recalled the book’s reaction at the library. Mage library detected. Scanning mode activated. He hadn’t realized then, but it specifically said mage…not sorcerer. His eyes widened. There really were buildings from the Lost Age here.

Antone smiled. “You know something, don’t you. Well, let me finish our tale and then you’ll return the favor. So, as you’ve guessed, Hendricks was right. There was a whole damn ghost city crammed under the hill. Stretching past the academy. We slipped our babysitters one night and explored a small part of it.”

“How? How is it possible no one knew about this?” Zeek asked.

“Clergy knew. Royals knew. The rest of us never bothered mucking our way through the bone-filled, shit-covered catacombs. Maybe a smuggler or two saw something strange, but there were only a few entrances that hadn’t caved in. As luck would have it, our nutjob pal found it.” Antone laughed as if recalling a memory.

He leaned forward, clasping his fingers together while his elbows rested on the table. “One room. That’s all we managed to explore. We couldn’t open the door; it used a mechanism none of us could operate. It was a workshop or something, but different from our own. Probably meant to hide them from whatever wiped them out. All we found were a few diagrams that crumbled to dust when we touched them, a skeleton, and a device.”

“Device? What does it do?” Zeek asked.

“Allows us to send secret messages. We have no idea how it works. We’ve barely managed to get the messaging function operating. But between the device, the diagrams that referred to principles of magic thought to be impossible, and the door…we knew something was wrong,” Turgi explained.

Antone continued, “Hendricks was sharp. He managed to remember the diagrams and some of the terms. Crazy bastard marched right into the palace and demanded answers. We never saw him again, but our surveillance time went from months to a full year. Clergy told us Hendricks was sick and passed away, and it was kept quiet at his family’s request.”

Turgi tapped the table. “Now you’ve heard our story. Good faith requires an equal exchange.” The three archmages stared at Zeek while he considered what to explain. It would be difficult to talk much without mentioning the book, but he had to keep that a secret for now.

“Sorcery is the use of premade models to cast spells,” Zeek recited the definition from memory. “This training method is severely limited by the amount of spells a mage can learn, and results in weaker mages overall. Long-term use of sorcery inhibits mana manipulation through overreliance on models. Pure magic relies on the mage manipulating mana to impose their will on nature. The amount of spells, and their power, is wholly dependent on skill and only limited by imagination.”

Their eyes widened, and Turgi pulled out a notepad and scribbled furiously. Irith nodded while murmuring to herself. Antone spoke first. “Where did you hear that?”

“I can’t reveal my source. But I’ll answer what I can otherwise,” Zeek replied.

“Is there a mage from the Lost Age still living? A school? Are you part of an old mage family?” Antone peppered him with questions while the others listened.

“I don’t know of any mages from then. I’ll reveal my source when we trust each other, but it’s not a person or object. Feel free to search me.”

Turgi spoke next. “You say we aren’t manipulating mana when we cast. What do you mean by that?”

“It’s like you have a gate that you open and close to let out a certain amount of mana. But none of you are actually moving your mana,” Zeek tried to explain.

“How does it work for you?” Irith asked.

“It feels almost like another limb. I can move my mana freely in my body. I move faster and hit stronger when I put mana in the muscles I’m using to move. I can make my core move faster or slower to mimic other mages. And I can cover my eyes with mana to create mana vision,” he answered.

“Can you teach us?” Antone asked.

“I don’t know how. I learned from the moment I unlocked my mana. I’d probably need materials from the Lost Age to train you. Why can’t you push your mana into your other limbs?” he asked.

“It causes excruciating pain,” Antone explained.

“You can’t slow down your core?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin learning how,” Antone replied. “What about the undercity? You reacted when I spoke of it.”

“The academy has a mage library,” Zeek answered.

“We know, why does that matter?” Antone questioned.

Turgi broke out in a wide smile. “Because he used the word ‘mage.’” Zeek nodded.

Antone groaned. “Not this shit again. You’re telling me it’s a library made by mages from the Lost Age?”

“Yes…I think…probably.”

“Very reassuring,” Irith commented.

“It’s hard to explain without revealing my source,“ Zeek added.

Antone sighed. “Fine. We’ll figure something out with the library.” He suddenly turned his head to look over Zeek’s shoulder. “Hey girl, stop pretending to be asleep.” Penny jumped up and blushed, and it was Zeek’s turn to groan.

“How long were you awake?” Zeek asked.

She looked at the ground and patted dust off her pants. “Since the captain started telling his story.”

Zeek rolled his eyes at the archmages. “This is why you spent all that time getting food?” he remarked.

Turgi laughed. “What? You think we like the menu here?”

“I thought it took hours to recover from mana unlocking?” Zeek replied sarcastically.

“Did I say that? I recall saying it can take hours. Most get over it rather quickly,” Turgi said while smiling.

Penny tapped Zeek on the shoulder. “It’s alright. I could have left.” Zeek frowned as Antone coughed.

“Now that we’ve all had a nice dose of treason, what do you two think about joining our investigation?” the captain asked.

“You want me to go back to a school where the priest wants to kill me, the royals are hiding lost secrets, and somewhere a few hundred feet under my bed is a dead city filled with magical secrets which, for no reason at all, have disappeared?” Zeek replied.

“That about sums it up,” Antone said.

Zeek grinned. “Now this is what I wanted from a magical academy. We’re in.”