"What does it really mean to be a Mage?" Athena asked a couple of mornings later as she was practicing her penmanship and I was taking notes form a thin volume on the meaning of dream imagery that Hollis has given me.

“I mean,” she added after a moment, “what’s it all about?”

I sat back in my chair and looked across the table at her. "Basically, passing your Hermetic Mage's exams means that you've completed six years of apprenticeship and a minimum of four years as a Journeyman. The Mage exams test your ability to control your spellcasting and your proficiency with different types of magic, as well as a basic knowledge of the laws of Greater Britannia so that you understand the boundaries of what a Mage is allowed to do. And, of course, being a Mage is a gateway to a lot of other opportunities."

"Like what?" she asked curiously.

"First and most importantly - at least to me - becoming a Mage is the first real step towards becoming a Wizard. You can't start studying to become a Wizard until you've proved your proficiency with basic spellcasting to the satisfaction of the Hermetic Order of Wizardry." I smiled and added, "Being a licensed Mage isn’t a career in and of itself, it’s just a stepping stone…in my case, being the assistant to a licensed Wizard. Lots of Mages go into the military or law enforcement. Others become professional translators, work in construction and engineering, science, medicine, you name it."

"Why?"

I wondered if I'd sounded like that when I'd asked Master Tremane questions like that. "Well, think about it. How useful would it be to a structural engineer to be able to apply magic to his work? To be able to tell instantly and with the smallest margin of error possible whether a building is still structurally sound after an earthquake, for example. There are spells that will pinpoint damage so subtle that it can't be seen with the naked eye...but which over time could cause the building to become unsafe.

"The same thing can be applied to medicine," I added after a moment's thought. "Some of the best doctors in the world have worked magic into their medical practices. True, healing magic has limitations and can be extremely difficult...but it can be used to root out infections, determine the exact nature of an injury, and diagnose diseases with near perfect accuracy. Broken bones can often be set and fused whole without needing a cast, and tumors in difficult - or even dangerous - to reach places can be slowly and carefully dissolved with magic. See?"

She nodded thoughtfully, then said, "I suppose the military applications are obvious. A group of combat Mages hurling explosive balls of fire can be more devastating than the best artillery. It must be the same in law enforcement, where spells can be used to safely render a suspect unconscious without any lasting harm."

"I should mention," I replied with a smile, "that actively practicing magic without a Mage's license can get you in trouble. I'm not talking about household magic, but the sort of application of magic in a career that I was just talking about a couple of minutes ago. There are laws and safety regulations that make professional use of magic without at least a Mage's license illegal."

Athena considered that in silence for a few minutes before asking, "So why would people stop after getting their Journeyman's qualifications?"

"Well," I said, playing with my pen, "for starters, it’s a difficult education, and plenty of people never have a reason to progress past being a Journeyman. For example, some of the world's best Potions Masters have never studied magic beyond that level, feeling the flashiness of spellcasting would distract them from their chosen calling. Sometimes a person studies magic in order to learn to control a wild talent. Once they have it under control - having passed the Journeyman qualifications - they can set it aside or use it at home for simple tasks. I can't tell you how many times I watched my mother do laundry and dishes with magic. Those were some of the first applications of magic I ever learned."

"Other times," I added, "a person discovers that the study of magic simply isn't for them. Passing the Journeyman's qualifications shows an understanding and knowledge of magic that can be useful to an employer, even without the actual application of magic. And a lot of people pass the Journeyman exam coming out of school rather than an apprenticeship, just to show basic proficiency and to prove themselves capable of learning magic for a profession."

"So what's the difference between a Mage and a Wizard, then?" Athena asked.

“Basically, where a Mage is licensed to practice a specific type of magic as part of a career, a Wizard is licensed to practice magic as a career. But it's a lot more involved than that. Being a Wizard brings a lot of responsibilities with it.”

“Like what?”

“Here in Albion,” I said, sitting back in my chair, “Wizards must provide assistance to the government, military, and both national and local law enforcement agencies when asked. Fortunately, they have good pay scales for that sort of service, based on complexity and both perceived and real hazards.

“Wizards are also required,” I continued thoughtfully, “if physically and psychologically able, to confront serious supernatural threats to public safety. Whether asked to or not, with or without compensation. Fortunately for us, most governments - like Albion’s - will adequately compensate a Wizard for their time and trouble after the fact, at least if they were successful.

“One of the most important things Wizards are required to do is keep watch for and investigate potential Nosferatu and Zombie outbreaks. We don't expect to be compensated for this unless we're called in specifically for this purpose. Frankly, a lot of the time such investigations happen so quickly and quietly that, unless there was a genuine problem, nobody aside from the Wizard or Wizards involved ever find out about it, except in the final report to the government. It's safer for everyone that way. The panic caused by a large-scale investigation of either one can be just as harmful as a real outbreak.”

Athena digested all of that for a few moments before saying quietly, “It sounds like a hard life.”

I huffed out a little laugh. “It's not an easy life, being a Wizard. It brings a level of responsibility - to yourself, your magic, your community and your country - that some spellcasters aren't comfortable with. Not to mention the fact that it can put you in danger in ways that being a Mage doesn't. A policeman who's a Mage might be asked to consult about a potential supernatural predator...but if it turns out to really be one, odds are very good that a Wizard will be called in. If you'll forgive a bit of melodrama, Wizards stand between humanity and the darkness.” I smiled lopsidedly. “At least, that's what Master Tremane always told me.”

<> Artemis grumbled from where she was dozing in a sunbeam.

Athena and I shared a smile and went back to our respective studies.

Being the assistant to a locally renowned Wizard isn’t always a glamorous life full of excitement and laughing at danger. Most of the time, it's like being a secretary or clerk: I kept callers from interrupting his work and took messages, ran errands to pick up items he needed, and spent hours taking dictation as he ran experiments.

But it wasn't all study and tedious drudgery. And, truth be told, I found it fascinating to watch him work. The simple act of writing down his notes as he performed an experiment was an opportunity for me to learn new things, and I didn't waste those opportunities.

There were plenty of other opportunities to be had as well. At Hollis's urging, for example, I updated my wardrobe a bit to be less backwoods rustic. And though I still leaned towards what shopkeepers jokingly called "Men's fashion," I persevered and went on wearing trousers and boots rather than skirts and high heels. Oh, I had a few such outfits in my closet...they just didn't see the light of day much. Really, my style didn't change significantly. It just drifted away from tanned leather and towards twill, denim and tweed.

I also spent a lot of time sitting in on Athena's lessons. Some of it was that I was helping her learn, such as working on her reading and writing, and learning to fight with the unusual sword she’d taken from the thug on the docks.

The sword was called a shieldblade, her sword master informed us. It was apparently a relatively new, and not yet very popular, weapon designed by the Vinlanders. The one Athena had confiscated was a cheap knock-off of those… proper ones were solid metal, about the size of a broadsword with a straight, wedge-tipped, single-edged blade that widened into a squared-off reinforcing edge which was between an inch and an inch and a half thick.

Frankly, the only thing the manufacturer of the obviously inferior knock-off had gotten right was the sword's unusually long two-handed grip.

It was called a shieldblade because the squared-off side could be used to block and parry blows without risking damage to the cutting edge of the blade. It was having a hard time catching on because it was a difficult sword to use, partly because of its weight - more than a broadsword but less than a claymore - and partly because it was awkward to handle. Or so we were told.

When we finally went shopping for a proper one for Athena, we learned that the blades themselves - properly made ones, anyway - were a marvel of metallurgical and alchemical wizardry. According to the merchant we purchased the blade from anyway.

"These blades," he said, holding one out across both hands for us to examine, "Are made by the finest Norden metal smiths in Vinland. Not like that rough knock-off your pretty familiar is carrying," he added, nodding politely to Athena, who blushed at being called pretty.

"Well, it was acquired during an attempted robbery," I explained. "She took it off one of the thugs who jumped us."

The merchant, a middle-aged Norden man whose golden hair and beard were just starting to go gray, grinned. "He was doubly a fool then. First for buying an inferior product, and second for assaulting such obviously competent young women. These blades," he went on, deftly flipping the sword over in his hands, "Are a marvel of alchemical and metallurgical study!"

"How so?" I asked with a smile. Master Tremane had taught me to play the haggling game, and I knew that if I let the seller expound on the virtues of their product not only did I stand to learn useful things about it, I stood a good chance of getting a better deal out of him.

"I'm glad you asked!" the merchant replied enthusiastically. "You see, Norden sword smiths have long worked on improving the quality of their steel through refining, blending, and folding techniques...much like our counterparts in Nippon. And recently, the Nordens of Vinland have taken a cue from the Nippon sword smiths by adding an element of magic to the process.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"During the refining and forging process," he continued in an intentionally hushed, awed tone, as if sharing a profound secret with us, "Vinland smiths have begun combining traditional Norden alloys with elemental air magic. As we fold the layers of iron, we work in elemental air spells to produce a new metal, as strong and durable as steel, but as light as a feather. We call it Vinderstal, or Wind Steel."

He flipped the blade around effortlessly and offered it to Athena hilt-first. "Try it," he said with enthusiasm. "Feel its weight and balance. I promise, you'll not find its better anywhere."

Athena glanced at me for permission, and when I nodded, reached out and took the blade from him carefully. She blinked in surprise as she lifted it from his hands, taking a firmer grip on the hilt. "It weighs half of what this one does," she said in surprise, reaching up with her free hand to tap the hilt of the inferior blade rising from behind her shoulder. "And its balance is exquisite."

The merchant beamed. "You see?" He turned his attention to me. "You seem like a wise young woman. Surely you must recognize the value of having the best equipment for your familiar."

I felt my lips curl up a little. "Indeed I do," I said dryly.

He laughed. "And something else you may not have known," he added as Athena slowly tested the weight of the blade, "Is that metal prepared in this way is unusually good at taking and holding enchantments."

I blinked. He was right, I hadn't known that. I turned slightly to watch Athena, possibilities suddenly flitting across my mind. If he was right, I could make that sword even better than it already obviously was.

"You see the possibilities," he said, sensing a sale. "It's a fine blade, with the potential to become even more in the hands of your familiar and through your skills with magic."

Athena had stopped and was looking to me, so I smiled. "Do you like it, Athena?"

She nodded. "It's perfect, Mistress."

I returned my attention to the merchant. "Let's talk price..."

He grinned broadly.

In the end, we settled on what I felt was a fair price for the blade, its scabbard, and a specially designed harness that would make it more comfortable for Athena to wear across her back. From the smile on the merchant's face as we walked away, Athena cradling the new blade in her arms, I suspected he felt he'd gotten a good deal too. Or perhaps he'd simply enjoyed the process. I had, after all, been a good customer.

It was money well spent. Once Athena's sword master was done gushing over the quality of the sword and they returned to her lessons, she settled into the rhythms and moves of the dance they were building around the unusual blade with greater ease than she had with the original.

"Even the best trained swordsman," her teacher said to me one afternoon as she went through her exercises, "Is only as good as the sword they carry. An inferior blade will upset balance and risks breaking when needed most. You made a wise investment in that sword."

Then there were Athena's martial arts lessons, which taught her non-lethal unarmed combat. I chose to take part in those directly.

It turned out to be a good thing I did. I had already learned some basic hand-to-hand combat techniques from Master Tremane, but what Athena and I learned in those bruising, exhausting lessons did more than teach us to fight. It honed our muscles and reflexes, taught us how to read an opponent's attacks, and how best to defend against them.

I thought I was relatively fit when we started, and still ended those days sore for a while. It was good for us both.

I also took part in some of her shooting lessons, though I wasn't sure it was a skill I'd ever use. Master Tremane always said "It's better to learn a skill you'll never need than to need a skill you never learned."

Anyway, as a wizard I had little need for Magearms, let alone firearms. But each had its advantages, and while Master Tremane had taught me to use Magearms, this was my first opportunity to learn to use firearms.

Magearms were invented a long time ago - the earliest known versions were more than two thousand years old - as a way of making combat spellcasting viable in large-scale warfare. They act as a ready-made form for a combat spell; usually something simple like a firebolt or a small lightning bolt. The user simply has to invest the requisite energy into the weapon, squeeze the trigger, and the runehammer snaps into the keystone, which connects it to the engraved spell matrix, closing the circuit and casting the spell.

Modern Magearms come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, from pocket-sized weapons up to infantry-portable siege weapons that take multiple people to fire. Most of them are designed to have a fairly generic energy matrix so that the runes on the keystone are what determines the nature of the spell. This lets manufacturers make the keystones interchangeable, allowing users to swap them on the fly as needed.

They're useful in that they require very little training and virtually no focus to use in high-stress situations. Even skilled spellcasters have been known to resort to Magearm pistols during combat and for dueling, though swords are still the preferred method of settling duels - especially when someone with little or no magical talent is involved.

Still, only a comparatively small percentage of the population has the requisite Anima levels to use a Magearm more than once or twice without exhausting themselves. Also, the level of work that goes into manufacturing one - engraving and Thaumic engineering, since they have yet to find a way to mass-produce them - makes them prohibitively expensive. Anyone with enough Anima and money to own and operate a Magearm will typically carry one paired with a sword "For giving the mundanes a sporting chance."

Seriously, I heard one arrogant ass of a nobleman say precisely those words. How obnoxious is that?

Anyway, that's where firearms come in. They were first invented a couple of centuries ago - in the late 1700s or early 1800s, I believe - and were designed as an inexpensive counter to Magearms and combat-trained spellcasters like myself. They use a basic alchemical formula - today known as gunpowder - to propel a lead slug or other projectile contained within an enclosed chamber. Originally they were small balls or bullets that needed to be loaded one at a time with loose powder, but they've evolved to self-contained cartridge guns called revolvers that were designed about twenty years ago.

There is a point to all of this, honest.

Firearms are loud, potentially unreliable and produce copious amounts of foul-smelling smoke. But most disturbing to many people is that they can be used by absolutely anyone and require little training and no innate talent to use, though they still require some skill to use effectively. To be sure, they're not as powerful as a properly executed combat evocation or well-crafted Magearm - but a couple of bullets will leave you just as dead as a bolt of lightning.

Needless to say, the aristocracy of various nations around the world were less than thrilled by the idea of low-Anima commoners having the power to kill with - or without - a thought. Because of that, firearms are generally limited to licensed familiars (who have very little free Anima, having used it all in the Elevation process) and soldiers (both regular army and private militias). The license itself is rather expensive and is issued to the familiar's owner or the commander of the unit in order to purchase them for their soldiers. You can also get a private license, which is something many police officers do.

None of the licensing means a thing to ruffians and bandits who lack the ability (or skill) for spells or Magearms. And if they don't have the resources - or the nerve - to carry an illegal firearm, it's knives, swords and bludgeons one must defend oneself from.

Which is, of course, why swords (and other similar weapons) are still in common use and carried openly. As Hollis said, "All the combat spellcraft and alchemical wonders in the world won't do you a lick of good if you're caught in a melee with nothing but a friendly smile to protect you."

Since I was already decent with a sword, thanks to Master Tremane, I decided to take part in Athena's shooting lessons. At the end of the day, it's good to know that if I'm ever exhausted to the point of uselessness as a spellcaster or a swordsman, I could at least theoretically defend myself with a gun. And Athena, with no free Anima for spellcasting or Magearms, would be nearly as effective a combatant as I myself could be.

Rumor has it that there are animals in parts of the world - Africa, India and Nippon, from what I've heard - that are referred to as 'Awakened' and can use their Anima in much the same way as humans. But that's probably just stories. It's also beside the point.

Be that as it may, I had taken the time to apply for a license so that Athena and I would be able to carry and use firearms and had been granted it. She found them as distasteful as I - and most people - did.

"It stinks, Mistress," she said one afternoon as she was cleaning the practice revolver she was using, "And it makes my ears hurt."

She had just finished a round of target practice in the narrow side yard of Hollis' townhouse and was sitting beside me. That afternoon, I had joined her with a lap desk bearing a couple of books and a composition book half-full of notes I had gathered on the Philosopher's Stone at Hollis' request. I'm pretty sure the neighbors couldn't much like having someone firing off dozens of rounds right next to their house, but if they said anything to Hollis about it he never told me.

"I know, pet," I said soothingly. "But there'll come a time when you might be glad to have it."

<> Artemis said from where she was stretched out beneath our bench. <>

"True," Athena replied with a sigh, and returned to cleaning her pistol.

Hollis emerged from a nearby door and walked towards us, hooking his thumbs in his belt and smiling broadly. "Good afternoon, ladies," Hollis said, causing Artemis to poke her head out from under the bench I was sitting on and peer up at him. He smiled at her. "And good afternoon to you too, Artemis."

She purred and disappeared back under the bench, making him chuckle.

I set down my pen and smiled. "She just likes to be acknowledged sometimes."

"Don't we all?" he asked with a soft laugh. "How is your research going?"

"Slowly," I replied. "The Philosopher's Stone is a thorny subject, with a lot of conjecture and very little hard data. It seems like only one or two people in the history of alchemy have managed to make one."

"Very true," he agreed, "On all counts. It's a difficult subject of study to begin with, since the Stone - a name which could not be less accurate - is an unusual substance. It violates several natural and alchemical laws, having the properties of both a solid and a liquid depending on how it's being handled. Not to mention that it's extremely difficult to make, and the process is dangerous.

"But that's not why I came out to speak with you," he added ruefully, his smile fading away. "I'm easily distracted. A Rabbi I know contacted me early this morning about a problem a family in his congregation is having and asked for help. About a month ago, the youngest daughter of this family took ill and quickly wasted away. She was buried two weeks ago. Last week the youngest son, a year older than his sister, reported having dreams about his sister visiting him. He too has grown ill and is quickly wasting away."

"That sounds like a Nosferatu attack," I said quietly.

Hollis nodded grimly. "Doesn't it, though. Have you dealt with a Nosferatu before?"

"Yes," I replied slowly. "I helped Master Tremane deal with one four years ago. It wasn't pretty."

"It never is. But if we don't do something, this boy will die like his sister," Hollis said. "And then we'll have the beginnings of an outbreak on our hands."

I shivered. The last reported outbreak of Nosferatu had taken place in Vinland about ten years ago. By all accounts it had resulted in the burning of a small town to the ground.

The whole town: buildings, stock, and residents, without discrimination. There were, as I recall, complaints about innocent people having been killed. The response from the local authorities had been simply, "Better one or two innocents than the entire eastern coast."

According to the records I'd read of the incident while studying under Master Tremane, there had been a lot of nodding agreement with that sentiment. When I'd asked if an outbreak was really that serious, he had looked at me very grimly, his dark eyebrows drawn down in a frown. His response had been short, firm, and to the point. He himself wasn't certain burning a town had been an overreaction.

So I took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "All right. I can handle this, especially with Athena and Artemis to help. What do you want us to do?"

"Here is the address," he replied, passing me a small sheet of note paper. "Pack what you think you'll need to stay a couple of days. Go and observe the boy, and watch over him tonight and tomorrow."

I nodded and rose, Athena rising with me as Artemis slunk out from under the bench and padded towards the door. "All right."

Hollis reached out and caught my wrist. "Alys..." He hesitated, then sighed. "Well, I suppose this is the sort of challenge we all face at some point as a Wizard. Be very careful, and don't be afraid to call me if you think you're in over your head. Especially if you think there's more than one."

I smiled tremulously and tried to keep myself from shivering. "I'll be careful, and I'll holler for help if I need it."

"Good," he nodded firmly. "Get going, there's not much time before sunset."

I glanced back at the door and saw him watching me, his eyebrows drawn down in a worried frown. I wondered if he thought I was biting off more than I could chew, or if he shouldn't have even offered it to me.

A Nosferatu. Great.