The next fifteen minutes dragged on for Q. The wait only giving his nerves more time to act up, the longer it took for Vera to reappear. Cedric did his part to keep Q distracted and was only partially successful. He could feel his palms start to sweat, and his renewed anxiety had him wiping them on his breeches. Finishing his ale, he felt relieved when he saw her making her way through the crowd. Rising from the table, he nodded at Cedric, asking his friend to excuse him. The wink he received in reply set his stomach fluttering.

Reaching his side, Vera slid her arm through his and pulled him toward the stairs and his rented room. They managed to pass two tables before an arm snaked out, blocking their path. With an internal groan, Q followed the offending appendage back to its owner, and recognized one of the nobles from earlier.

Of course, it’s the fat one, Q thought. Watching the young man stand from his table. He stood of a rough height with Q, but probably weighed half again as much, none of it from muscle. Q noticed the suspected Lord, who appeared to be right around his and Cedric’s age, was also a little wobbly on his feet from too much to drink.

Slurring his words slightly, the man said, “Excuse me, serving girl, I’ve been watching you all evening, and thought I would ask you to join me for the night.” His smile drooping with the lack of feeling in his face.

Leaning back, Vera pressed her body into Q’s. With a bow of her head, she said, “I am sorry, my Lord. I have already made plans for the evening.”

The man sucked his teeth, looking between Vera and Q for a long moment. Turning back to his friends, who were still watching from their table, he said. “She already has plans. Do you hear that, lads?”

With a glance at Q, the two began to laugh. With one of them commenting, “I wonder if you can change her mind, Reginald.”

The sense of unease he felt earlier came back, even stronger now. Moving forward, Q shifted Vera behind him.

Noticing the movement, Reginald let out a snort, saying, “Don’t worry! I mean the girl no harm. If anything, I aim to improve her lot in life.”

He leaned forward conspiratorially and held out a hand with a finger extended. Cupping his other hand around it to block it from view, he conjured a small flame on the tip of his finger.

Q’s eyebrows rose at the odds of meeting another Gifted here, of all places.

Vera had a very different reaction to the revelation. She released Q’s arm like he’d burned her. Shifting around him, she moved toward Reginald with stars in her eyes.

A wave of understanding washed over Q at her motivation, and disappointment surged through him. The greed in Vera’s expression killed any thought of enjoying her company. Though, it looked like that was off the table now anyway.

A grin split Reginald’s face when his friends burst into laughter. Q backed away, done with his involvement in their game.

Sorry Cedric, these are definitely assholes—I think that is enough for me tonight, Q thought, turning to walk away.

“What’s this now? I thought you and the young lady had plans. Or did I mishear?”

Cedric, having seen the confrontation from their table, rose to his feet, and now stood blocking Q’s exit. Garrick also noticed the incident, and was watching Q from over Cedric’s shoulder, looking ready for anything.

“Well, well… He has an escort, would you look at that? Maybe he’s not just some country bumpkin.” Reginald said, spreading his arms wide, and casting a glance at his companions. Vera took the opportunity to slide in under an arm and cuddle into his side. “Come now, no hard feelings. Let us all introduce ourselves. I am Viscount Reginald Hargrove, and these are my two cousins, the Lords Trevor and Lucius. They are escorting me to the Capital to attend the Mage Academy.”

Q and Cedric exchanged glances, and a silent message passed between them. Unfortunately, custom dictated they had to introduce themselves or risk causing offense. Nodding their heads respectfully, Cedric took the lead.

“I am Baron Cedric Vaelmara and this is Earl Quinten Ashford. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances.”

At the mention of Q’s name, a sneer appeared on Reginald’s face. “By the stars, what is a fellow Gifted doing with a traitor’s son?”

Cedric inhaled deeply. In his time spent training with Q, it was inevitable that the topic of his parents would come up, and Cedric had been told the story of how they died. If there was one absolute truth in their world, it was that Q trusted in his father's innocence, and believed to the depths of his soul that his parents had been unjustly murdered. Cedric remembered sitting through the etiquette lesson with Q’s grandfathers, where they had discussed the situations in which Q could and could not defend his father.

Unfortunately for Viscount Reginald, a tavern in his drunken state, was far from a safe setting in which to make such a remark.

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The crunch of Reginald’s nose was loud enough that it could be heard over the music filling the tavern. Q had to give Reginald’s cousins credit where it was due. They did not hesitate to jump to their feet and square up against Cedric and himself.

“Fight, fight, fight!” Yelled the people standing closest. Garrick backed away. It was not his place to interfere with a tavern brawl between nobles. “We will keep their guards out of the fight, my lord.” Turning with a wave to the rest of his men, he called back over his shoulder, “Do your best not to kill them.”

The cousins, who were close enough to identical to make it difficult to tell the difference between them, were fairly well trained in unarmed combat, and Q found himself surprised by that fact. He shouldn’t have been. He was not the only noble who wanted to learn to fight, and this was proving a valuable lesson in not underestimating someone just because of their status. Neither of them, either the one in a blue tunic, nor the one in the red, were good enough to concern Q. And yet, without magic, they would have likely come out ahead after overpowering Cedric, and teaming up against Q. But, the reality was that a tavern brawl, even between nobles, was not a regulated, one-on-one duel, and Q took full advantage of that fact.

Stepping onto the bench beside him, Q leapt over Reginald where he lay clutching his face. Crashing down on top of red-tunic, he drove his target hard into the tavern’s wooden floor with a thud. Red immediately pushed Q off of him with one hand and landed a good blow to his abdomen with the other. Q grit his teeth at the pain and slammed his elbow deep into the muscle of Red’s thigh, eliciting a groan from his opponent.

Knowing the man would have trouble moving, Q rolled to his feet and ran to assist Cedric, who took a straight jab to the mouth as Q watched. Q kicked Blue in the back of the leg, forcing him to a knee. Grabbing the man’s head, Q slammed it into a conveniently placed table beside him. He didn’t have much time to appreciate his handy work as an arm snaked around his neck from behind, squeezing tight around his throat.

Q tossed his head back, but whoever it was trying to choke him knew enough to bury their face between Q’s shoulder blades, and protect from a head butt. Q used a move that he’d had performed on himself several times until he’d learned how to counter it. Reaching up with both hands, he gripped his attacker's wrist and jumped into the air, lifting his legs to his chest, and forcing the combined weight of his body and gravity as it pulled him downward, onto the arm currently wrapped around his neck. Collapsing forward into an abdominal crunch the moment his knees hit the wooden planks. He sent Red over his shoulder and flying through the air, landing squarely in the middle of the same conveniently placed table.

Red gasped for breath as the wind was knocked from his lungs. He struggled to sit up and only managed to make it halfway before Cedric connected with a shot to the jaw, knocking the final cousin out cold.

In a matter of moments, their first tavern fight was over. With one man unconscious on the floor and the other draped across a table. Silence filled the room. Until the tavern’s occupants roared in celebration for the two young men standing triumphant.

Never one for modesty, Cedric peered down at Reginald where he still sat holding his nose, blood leaking between his fingers. “You may want to hire a trainer when you get to Gremelda. Mage or not, I doubt your father will be proud that he spawned a dandy who goes down after one punch.”

Wound to the nobles pride, dealt, Cedric turned with a flourish and raised both arms over his head, basking in the adulation. Q watched the fury spread across Reginald’s face, and could see it in the young man’s eyes the moment he chose to escalate the situation. Raising a hand, the mage conjured a fireball, this one much larger than the flame he’d shown off earlier. He took aim at Cedric’s turned back, releasing the flaming ball of energy.

Reacting on instinct, Q telekinetically swatted the fireball aside. Watching in horror as it flew across the common room and hit the second floor railing, setting it ablaze. The heat from the flames instantly spread throughout the room. Cedric felt it on his back, spun around, and lashed out with a foot. His boot connecting solidly with Reginald’s jaw, knocking him unconscious.

Shit! Now who is going to put out the fire? Q thought as he started to panic. His eyes met Cedric’s, and he saw his own fear and regret reflected back at him.

“Fire! Everyone outside, fire!” Q yelled, with Cedric doing likewise. Both of them using their gifts to ensure their voices carried over the screams, and the sound of the fire as it grew.

Garrick and his men helped funnel the occupants out the front door, doing what they could to keep it from jamming and getting people killed.

Q surveyed the tavern. As far as he could tell, everyone had been evacuated. Should we just let it burn itself out? He thought, doing one last sweep for anyone unable to get themselves to safety.

Just as he made his decision to leave, the innkeeper cried, “There are guests already turned in for the night. They will be trapped if the fire continues to burn. Where is the mage who started the fire?”

“Knocked unconscious and dragged out by his family. The three of them were the first ones through the door.” Cedric answered, not taking his eyes off of Q.

Without any Elemental magic of his own, and the fire well past anything Mental magic could contain, it was up to Q to decide the tavern guest’s fate.

Grandmother, grandfathers, please forgive me. Q thought, stepping forward. The screams he could hear coming from the second story, made the decision for him.

Raising his hands, Q used a combination of air and fire magic. With his control over the fire, he gripped the rampaging flames in an iron fist, forcing them to act against their will by not consuming the well seasoned and alcohol soaked timbers of the tavern. The combination created a fertile field for the fire to spread. The hungry flames danced in his grasp, testing his control. Tapping into his air magic, he drew on the wind, causing the flames to waver as the super heated air was pulled through the door being held open by Cedric. Effectively robbing the gluttonous flames of at least one source of fuel. Sweat dripped down Q’s body as he was forced to channel his gift internally to combat the heat, smoke, and energy expenditure.

Slowly, the flames died out one by one, until Q was able to pull water from the barrel at the rear of the tavern, putting out any beds of heat he still felt simmering.

Q was too focused on his casting to notice, but his actions within the tavern had not gone unseen, and many had heard him be introduced by Cedric as Earl Ashford. The gossip had only been held at bay due to the fear of death, and now that it was no longer a concern, word rapidly began to spread.

Seeing the first occupant of the rooms above come practically falling down the stairs, Q let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. When the last guest, according to the innkeeper, who was the only person remaining in the tavern, other than Q, Cedric, and Garrick, finally made it out, Q was finally free to stumble his way out and into the fresh air. The unexpected use of his gift leaving him exhausted. Being the last to exit the still smoking building, Q froze at the sight before him. Arranged around the tavern, were several dozen people all staring directly at him.

Oh, shit.