Looking at him, it was immediately clear that Beltane had taken my advice. He was dressed in finely tailored clothing that wouldn’t look out of place on a noble. He wore a thick double-breasted coat, under which was a pristine white dress shirt. Beltane’s dark red trousers were made of a good material, and he even wore new boots. Most importantly, he was clean. Clearly, he had made good use of the Etronian gold piece.
Beltane did not carry his staff or wand, but he still wore most of his jewelry. His fingers were still covered in many garish rings, and the bracelet he wore on his left wrist was inlaid with many arcane runes. On his neck, Beltane wore a silver chain necklace from which an amulet hung. I vaguely recognized the rune on the amulet to be the symbol of a pagan god worshiped in southern Etronia, though the god’s name escaped me.
Walter stepped toward Beltane, placing himself between the newcomer and three of the people he was sworn to protect. “Hello, stranger,” Walter said in a polite but firm tone. “What brings you here?”
I decided to not mention my recognition of the newcomer. It would be better for everyone if our earlier meeting was never mentioned again.
“I am Beltane Ostara,” the man said with a slight bow to Tabitha, “the Court Mage appointed to the Realm of Northwind by King Theophrastus III.”
“Is that so?” Walter mused with clear doubt evident in his voice. He looked Beltane up and down with a critical eye. “Well, you’re certainly dressed like a Court Mage. Do you bear the King’s seal? I request that you produce the King’s missive.”
“About that…” Beltane chuckled uncomfortably, “I must have left the missive in my bag at the inn.”
I had to stop myself from groaning audibly. Beltane was clearly not much of a Court Mage. He should have known he would have to show the letter to prove his identity. That was the distinction between war mages and Court Mages, apparently. War mages were little more than educated soldiers; their occupation didn’t require them to have a good grasp on court politics. I would have expected the King to send a man who was a bit more educated on such matters, however.
“If you do not have evidence of your identity, then I cannot allow you to come any closer,” Walter said firmly. His hand came to rest lightly on the handle of his sword. “You’ll have to go back to the inn and come back with the King’s missive.”
Beltane sighed heavily. “Okay, I understand.” He began to turn around. “Sorry about that. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
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Beltane began to leave the garden, but his departure was interrupted by a man’s voice emanating from the manor. “That won’t be necessary.” Count Armond stepped out of an open door into the garden. “I recognize this man. You were at Fulvang, were you not?”
Armond addressed his last sentence to Beltane, who said, “Yes, my lord. We met briefly at the strategy meeting on the eve of the final battle. I’m surprised you remember me.”
“I try to remember those talented enough to distinguish themselves, despite humble beginnings,” Armond said with a smile. “Sir Walter, this man is a true son of Etron. He was the only one able to dispel the wards on the walls of the Ebon Keep. If not for him, I might not have been able to reach Duke Cyphus in time.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Beltane said with a deep bow. “I hope to serve you well.”
Armond stepped forward with a laugh, slapped Beltane on the shoulder, and said, “We’ll have a feast to celebrate your arrival, Mr. Ostara. Come in, we have much to discuss.”
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A week later, I was approached by Beltane while I was producing more of my focus-drug in the hideout. He was dressed in his traveling clothes once more, and he carried his arcane foci. His hood was drawn back, revealing the sand-colored hair underneath.
Beltane entered the hideout quietly, ducking his head as he entered. I didn’t bother trying to hide my transmutation set-up. It would be impossible for me to hide my research from him for any significant amount of time.
“A two-tier, four-point transmutation reaction…” Beltane mused quietly as I pointedly ignored him. “That’s really advanced and… unorthodox. There’s not much need to use a two-tier reaction unless the primary circle has more than five points.”
I didn’t know that. Transmutation was handled automatically in-game, so the only building block my research had was the book on elementary transmutation I found in the library.
“You don’t seem very surprised,” I said as I removed the flask containing charcoal-slurry and placed it on a nearby table.
“I’ve come to accept that everything you do is unorthodox,” Beltane smiled.
“That’s probably a healthy perspective to have,” I said seriously. “Why are you here?” My tone was not accusatory when I asked the question. I was fairly certain I knew why Beltane was there, and I wanted to know if I was correct.
“Your father has agreed to let me tutor you,” Beltane confirmed my suspicion. “I have been asked to spend three hours a week teaching you magic.”
“Three hours a week?” I turned to the war mage, disappointment evident on my face. I had hoped to spend much more time on magical education since I was being forced to spend forty hours a week learning things I already knew. At least I’d be learning something interesting during those three hours.
“There’s not really any reason to spend more than that amount of time on magical education, anyway,” Beltane said, sensing my disappointment. “I guess there is something you don’t know.” He smirked. “The vast majority of a mage’s research is spent in private study. The primary purpose of our meetings will be for me to point you in the right direction. The rest of your training will be independent. I will simply tell you which [Spells] you should learn, and you’ll learn them on your own.”
“What [Spell] should I learn first, then?” I asked.
“Well…” Beltane paused for a moment. “You already have offense mostly handled because of your Talent. How about this? I’ll teach you my very favorite spell: [Shield].”