Zeek decided to skip the ceremony. After that hearty and rousing breakfast, he wanted peace and quiet until they had to leave. Besides, the lack of cheering from the plaza told him how the testing was going. A twisted part of him wanted to open the book and see what the next task would be, but he didn’t want to push his luck twice in one day. If the book asked him to do something else awful…well, he wasn’t sure his body could take any more today.

He walked the empty streets by himself, not expecting to find anyone out. Hake’s entire population had attended the ceremony, and this village was no different. He found himself leaving the town gate and moving down a nearby forest trail. It reminded him of home. Granny’s house was built in the woods, so she could hunt for herbs undisturbed.

The sun was nearing its peak as he exited the forest and reached an open field. Harvest wasn’t for a few more weeks, but the local grain was already tall enough to reach Zeek’s chest. A tidy dirt path wound through the field in the direction of town, and only a few scarecrows dotted the field in place of workers. Zeek relaxed as he walked, enjoying the summer heat. He didn’t notice when a young boy stepped into the center of the path in front of him.

“Halt, vagabond!” the child squeaked.

Zeek looked at him in a daze. The kid was no more than seven or eight years old. The top of his head barely stood above Zeek’s waist. He had shaggy hair, freckles, and dirt all over him like he’d been rolling around on the ground all day. In his hand was a long stick the kid held in front of him like a sword.

“Me?” Zeek asked.

“Thith farm ith under the protection of the knighth of vale. No vagabondth or trethpatherth allowed!” the kid yelled. Zeek rolled his eyes. The kid didn’t even have front teeth. He was clearly skipping his chores so he could pretend to be a knight. Zeek had done the same thing at that age. He smiled at the kid and tried to walk around him. The kid shuffled his feet and held the stick in front of him.

“I’m just returning to town. I’m not a trespasser,” Zeek said as he pointed past the meadow. The kid didn’t break his gaze.

“Do you have permithion from Farmer John to be here?” the kid asked seriously.

“Yeah, yeah, he said he didn’t mind,” Zeek replied.

“Whath the pathword?”

“There’s no password to get through here. Nice try.” Zeek chuckled.

“The pathword ith Thage Thoup!” the kid yelled as he swung the stick at Zeek.

“Sage soup? What kind of password is that?” Zeek yelped as he stepped back and grabbed the stick from the kid. He threw it into the field while the toothless runt gasped. As the stick flew, Zeek waved his hands to shoe him away, but the kid kicked him in the shin with all his strength and ran into the field.

Zeek held his aching shin and hopped on one leg as he shouted after the kid, “You little jerk! That was uncalled for!” He shook his leg to get the pain out and started walking back to town. He felt the book vibrate slightly in his pocket but ignored it. He wasn’t having a battle with some stupid kid today. In fact, he wasn’t doing anything but sitting in his room the rest of the day.

Ever since he’d opened the book, the day had gone to shit. He got smacked in the face, attacked by a toothless brat, and hadn’t learned a lick of magic. Tristan Orthan was a real asshole, and Farmer John would get along with him well.

When he reached his room at the inn, he closed the door and locked himself in the room. He flopped onto the bed and stared at the cracked ceiling. Reaching into his pocket, he tried to set the book on a bedside table, but it was stuck to his hand. Zeek waved his arm around wildly, trying to throw the rotten thing, but it wouldn’t budge.

Like it knew he was avoiding it.

After a few minutes of pointless struggle, Zeek gave up and sat up on the bed. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he stared at the book. “Alright. You win,” he said, as the book fell off his hand and onto his lap. He opened the pages and found the task list.

Task List:

1. Smack Princess’s ass. She’s too stuck up. Remind her life’s not so serious. (Complete)

Zeek felt the book radiate warmth. It coursed up his arms and throughout his body, like he was receiving a hot bath. As quickly as it came, the warmth faded and Zeek could feel something new in his body. He couldn’t tell what had changed, exactly; it was a bit like the testing ceremony but now it was present all the time. For the first time that day, Zeek smiled.

“You should have told me about the reward ahead of time,” he muttered, looking at the page again.

Progress:

Mana Tier 1

Task List:

2. Sir Toothless of the Vale hath challenged your honor. Defeat him in a duel!

    Zeek stared at the page in disbelief, reading the words over and over to be sure. The damn book was really going to teach him magic. He may have to do some despicable things, but who cares? He didn’t owe anyone anything, and his superpower before this magic business was nothing more than pure unrepentant shamelessness. He began to laugh; he laughed so hard his belly ached and his eyes watered. If anyone saw him in that moment, they’d think he was mad. He shoved the book back in his pocket and glanced out the window.

    The sun was still high, and he had a duel to fight.

    Penny watched him, eyes narrowed, as he sprinted out of the inn towards the town gate. The mages were nearing the end of the testing ceremony, and it was looking like no one would be joining them. In minutes he was running through Farmer John’s field, heading straight towards the young boy standing in the road.

    Toothless’s eyes widened when he saw an adult man running towards him. Grinning like an idiot, hair blowing in the wind, and a long stick in hand, Zeek skidded to a stop in front of the kid. He panted hard and bent over with his hands on his knees for an awkward amount of time before Toothless spoke.

    “You’re back, thcoundrel?”

    “Yes, brave knight,“ Zeek replied while trying to catch his breath, “I have returned.”

    The boy eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

    Zeek stood up straight, brandishing his stick that green and springy as if freshly torn from a young tree, and looked Toothless in the eyes. “You’ve impugned my honor. I challenge you to a duel.” Zeek puffed up his chest and pointed the stick at Toothless.

    The little bastard grinned back.

    “Firtht to yield lotheth!” Toothless yelled as he charged Zeek with his stick held out to the side. Zeek grinned as the small child charged him. He swung downward, trying to rap Toothless on the head, but the boy hopped sideways and hit Zeek in the side.

    Zeek yelped and jumped back, holding a hand to his ribs. The battle commenced and first blood went to Toothless. Looking back on this moment, Zeek would remember to never judge someone by appearance again. The boy must play knight every single day. In fact, whoever birthed this hell-spawn had likely served in the army at some point.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Despite Zeek’s superior strength, the kid dodged half his strikes and retaliated with a well-placed slice or stab. The kid parried the few strikes Zeek managed to land, dancing around him like a sword master. In only a few minutes, Zeek was panting again and covered in sweat as he back-peddled, swinging his sword wildly. Toothless’s biggest weakness was his reach.

    As long as Zeek kept him at a distance, he could take a few swings without retaliation. This strategy worked for a very…very…short time before the three-foot-tall knight had him backing into the field. Zeek thought this would be an advantage, but the kid was in his natural habitat. The wheat was taller than Toothless and the kid was this field’s apex predator. Zeek couldn’t keep sight of him as stalks jutted out from clumps of wheat at impossible angles, snapping against his legs, stomach, and sensitive regions.

    Zeek’s mind worked quickly, trying to think of a way to make the monster yield. He needed that task reward. He needed it much more than he needed his pride. Zeek suddenly had an idea. He sprinted from the field and back into the road. Toothless got a few more cheap shots in while Zeek stumbled onto the dirt. The kid was getting brave with his strikes now, getting within arm’s reach before zipping away.

    Zeek pretended to lean over panting—well not so much pretending, but you get the idea. Toothless rushed out of the field with his stick held above his head, preparing to throw all his weight into a downward strike, when Zeek jumped at him. The two tumbled to the ground as Zeek straddled the boy.

    The kid was too scrawny to fight back and started yelling curses. But Zeek was able to steal Toothless’s accursed stick and hold it to the boy’s throat.

    “Yield!” Zeek screamed, surprised by how serious his voice sounded.

    “Thcoundrel! Cheater!” Zeek dropped his whole weight on the boy’s stomach so the air was knocked out of Toothless’s lungs.

    The boy screamed, “I yield! I yield!” Zeek laughed maniacally as he stood up and stared at the breathless child he’d beaten. Toothless jumped to his feet and scowled at Zeek. “You hath no honor!” Zeek kept laughing in his face until the little monster kicked him in the shin again and ran back into the field.

     Zeek cursed as he hopped on one leg, for the second time that afternoon, and made his way back to town. Today was a good day, he thought. Unlocked my mana, getting a new spell, and a warm bed’s waiting for me.

    He conveniently ignored the fact that all he’d really done today was harass a woman and beat up a kid. Details weren’t important.

    When he got back to the inn, Archi was sitting at a table sipping a goblet of something foamy. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Zeek’s appearance. He was covered in dirt with bits of chaff sticking out of his hair. A few red marks that looked suspiciously like a stick were visible on his neck and face. Archi thought he might even have seen some dried blood, but despite it all Zeek was smiling.

    “Are you alright, my young friend?” Archi asked.

    “Never better, Archi, see you at dinner,” Zeek replied while hurrying towards his room. He locked the door and pulled the book out, giddy with excitement as he opened the pages.

Progress:

Mana Tier 1

Task List:

1. Sir Toothless of the Vale hath challenged your honor. Defeat him in a duel! (Complete)

    The moment Zeek read the words, the pages began turning on their own. A short chapter on mana and a manipulation technique appeared. It explained the basics and how to first feel your mana. It gave meditation tips to reach the point where Zeek could start moving mana on his own and ended with an exercise he could use to increase his overall mana. He became absorbed in reading and practicing.

    The gist of it was simple. You had to feel your mana inside and guide it in a circle near your stomach. The technique was complete when you could evenly distribute the mana it generated to your limbs. It was intuitive except for the breathing techniques. He had to breath a specific way while doing the exercises, or nothing would happen. If he became efficient at it, he could expand his mana to tier 2. He also learned what the tiers meant, but the examples given assumed he had basic knowledge of magic.

    He didn’t.

    The best he could figure out, he needed to reach mana tier 3 and then he’d be a beginner mage. The book would probably teach him spells at that point, but he had to grind out the technique until he got there. One thing did stand out: mana could be disturbed by emotions. Get excited and your mana would roil, get sad and it would be heavy. That explained, at least in part, why the book wanted him to do ridiculous tasks.

    In a few hours, he had memorized the techniques and was starting to get hungry. He glanced at the task list again before going downstairs for dinner.

Progress:

Mana Tier 1

Task List:

2. No substitute for good old-fashioned hard work. Reach Mana Tier 2.

    He realized he was holding his breath as he looked at the task list. Seeing a normal request, he finally inhaled and pocketed the book. It was time to talk to Archi. Fortunately, the old mage hadn’t moved since earlier. The only differences were his rosy cheeks and lopsided smile. He was sitting in a corner by himself while Unibrow ate dinner with Penny and muttered to her occasionally. Neither looked at him as he took a seat next to Archi and started pecking at the dinner laid out for him.

    “No luck today?” Zeek asked.

    “None. But that’s expected. Finding two of you was already very fortunate. One more village to go before we’re home,” Archi replied jovially.

    “You live in the capital?”

    Archi nodded. “The academy provides housing for my family and me.”

    “What’s the academy like?”

    Archi wiped a bit of red liquid from his lips and relaxed into his chair. “The academy is wonderful if you find magic interesting. Not everyone does. But the classes are designed to make proficient mages by the third year.”

    “Proficient?” Zeek asked.

    “Year one is about unlocking your mana, then learning a few spells. The more you learn, the better they place you in the second year.”

    “A whole year to unlock your mana?”

    Archi glanced at him and reached out to touch Zeek’s arm. Archi’s touch held a similar warmth to the one he’d felt earlier. “Ah, you lucky kid. No wonder you were smiling so much earlier. Did you realize what happened?”

    Zeek kept a straight face. “I suspected it was something magical.”

    “Must have unlocked your mana when you fought with whatever beast attacked you earlier. It happens from time to time.” Archi was pleased. Zeek couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t interrupt.

    “Listen, most people take months to unlock their mana. And the methods used can be…rough sometimes. It usually only happens when students get excited, upset, or angry. You can imagine how we make that happen, but now you get to skip that part.”

    “Is it really that much of an advantage?”

    “Yes, because you can spend the first year choosing which spells you want to learn,” Archi replied.

    “Why’s that matter? How many spells do I learn?”

    “Most learn one or two, exceptional students learn more. It varies from person to person, but that’s not important. The spells you learn decide which path they want you to take in school,” Archi explained.

    “Are there that many spells?” Zeek asked.

    “More than you can possibly imagine. But most aren’t taught in class. The library has plenty that you can choose from. But think of it this way: if you can only learn one to two spells, the kingdom views those as your affinity,” Archi answered.

    “Affinity?”

    “What you’re good at. If you only learn to make a fireball or a water whip in year one, they want you focusing on spells like that till school’s over. Then they put you in the army. If you learn how to enchant something in year one, then you end up on a path to become an enchanter. If you learn an illusion, you’ll end up a spy. You get the idea.”

    “Are there a lot of affinities? What do you recommend I try to learn?” Zeek asked.

    “Affinity is something the kingdom came up with. But I’ll let you in on a secret”—Archi leaned in and whispered—”you can come up with your own affinity.”

    “Has anyone done that before?”

    “A few have, but it’s very rare. There are two examples that stand out. One student learned a spell that assisted in the growth of herbs their first year. They ended up creating a type of herbologist affinity. Now they live in the royal gardens and work with the head alchemist to develop potions for the military. A few people have followed now that the affinity is recognized,” Archi said, with clear envy in his voice.

    “What about the other one?”

    “The other one’s interesting because it’s technically a rediscovered art. The student started out on the path of a ward crafter; you saw me make a few when we were traveling. But large-scale wards were a lost art until this student learned the spells for them in his second and third year. Now he works with the king to develop defenses for forts and cities. Another great job with high pay and low risk.”

    “So if I find some niche, I can make a ton of money and do little work,” Zeek said as he shoved a bit of potato in his mouth.

    “You’re a smart kid,” Archi chuckled.

    “What’s your affinity?” Zeek asked.

    “Cantrip master. It’s like a jack of all trades and the requirement for this job. I know more spells than most mages but none of mine are very powerful. A bit of wards, a spell to heal minor cuts, things of that nature. And I never get put in stressful situations or strain my mana, so my mana pool stays small comparatively.”

    “That sounds pretty nice. Are you the only mage in your family?” Zeek asked, curious about the old man’s background.

    “Yes, thank the Goddess,” Archi mumbled. Zeek raised an eyebrow. The old mage glanced at Unibrow before speaking quietly.

    “Piece of advice, my young friend. Nothing in life is free. Being a mage means serving the kingdom for life. Even after your service ends. No traveling abroad, no changing careers. Everything is decided for you. If you can accept that, it’s worth every moment. But there are downsides I wouldn’t want my children to experience. Don’t repeat that, by the way.”

    “Never heard a thing, Archi,” Zeek smiled.