“Our nation is in crisis and we need the help of a mage… Will you aid us?” The captain’s words piqued my interest. It's strange how a change in perspective can alter one's feelings; even his gaze no longer seemed as piercing as before.

“What kind of reward can I expect?” I asked, feigning nonchalance to strengthen my bargaining position. Truth be told, I was quite fond of lucrative opportunities like this one — even if they came with a hint of danger. After all, that is what makes life thrilling.

“Well...” My bluntness caused him a moment of hesitation, but he quickly regained his composure. “His Majesty the King will discuss these matters with you personally! Please, follow us.”

I walked with the group, a thrill of excitement rising within me. At last, I had fulfilled a childhood dream — to parade down the street with an honor guard. True, they weren't actually an honor guard, but I chose to see them as one.

Navigating to the palace was surprisingly straightforward. We boarded a boat that traveled along a canal, reaching the palace gates in no time. A palace official, likely tasked with greeting visitors, took over from the soldiers and led me to a garden-like area. He left me there with a terse, “Wait here while I announce your arrival.” Begrudgingly, I chose to overlook the lack of hospitality — after all, the rewards promised could hardly be meager.

Bored, I began to pace around like a “caged bull,” waiting for the bureaucrat to overcome whatever protocol or impediment delayed him. Court etiquette, I knew, could be tedious, but this was unbearable, leaving me on the brink of frustration. Suddenly, a voice sounded behind me.

“Are you a mage?”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it nearly made my heart leap into my stomach. Strictly speaking, my heart almost jumped right into my gut — someone had gotten close without my noticing. Instantly, I sprang forward, a powerful spell forming in my mind. I never take chances with anyone capable of approaching undetected; even without hostile intent, they could still be a threat.

But as the incantation settled in my thoughts, I realized it was just a young girl standing before me.

“Are you a mage?” she repeated, her eyes filled with innocence. She seemed about fourteen or fifteen, hovering on the edge between girlhood and young womanhood. Yet her gaze held the simplicity of a child no older than five. Likely, it wasn’t that she had concealed herself well, but rather that I had been too agitated to remain vigilant.

“Yes,” I replied, turning my head away, hoping the tedious official would emerge soon. Was I expected to entertain a child? I am no nursemaid.

But the official did not appear, so I turned back to face the girl.

She watched me with bright, blinking eyes, then seemed to steel herself — her expression revealing the effort it took. Children often do this. She bit her lip several times with a determination she no doubt considered resolute, though to me it was merely amusing.

“Can you teach me magic?”

Her directness left me momentarily speechless, but I quickly recovered. Whose child was this? From her attire — a dress that would appear refined on an adult woman but was merely "cute" on her — to her neatly combed hair and porcelain-like skin, I could instantly surmise she was a noble's daughter. But what did that matter? If she were an adult, I might care about distinguishing between noble and commoner, but children are all the same — equally troublesome. I turned away, hoping to distance myself before some fierce old lady appeared — my least favorite kind of person. Generally, troublesome kids and ferocious old women come hand in hand.

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Something tugged at my robe. I looked down to see the child’s hand clutching the fabric firmly, clearly unwilling to let go.

“Can you teach me magic?” she asked again, this time with a tone that suggested she would not accept a refusal.

“In three years... no, in five years, I might teach you some bedroom magic!” I tried to brush her off with a crude joke, but she didn’t catch the meaning.

“Bedroom magic? In five years? No! I want to start learning now! Five years later would be too late!” She refused to let go.

“You’re still too young,” I said, realizing my usual tactics failed against this naive flower from some greenhouse. I curled my fingers and flicked her forehead hard. As she yelped and recoiled, my robe slipped free.

I quickly walked away, hoping she wouldn’t follow. But, truth be told, I felt a sudden thrill, like the joy of teasing someone.

Unfortunately, even a royal garden isn’t very large, and the persistent little pest soon caught up with me. She lifted her skirts and hurried over. Seeing escape was futile, I stopped.

“I’m already fifteen! My grandfather had promised to start teaching me magic today! So I should be learning magic! Will you teach me?”

Please, you can’t be more than five. Anyone who would grab a stranger and demand to learn magic can’t be older than that. Do you think magic is some kind of child’s play? I thought, but kept silent. No point in saying it aloud; it would accomplish nothing. So I turned my head away.

“Will you teach me?” she repeated, her eyes brimming with hope. Since this nuisance had attached itself to me, it seemed I would have to handle it myself. Evasion was no longer an option.

“Why don’t you ask your grandfather?” I said bluntly. “Why come to me? I won’t teach you!”

“My grandfather…” Her expression suddenly shifted as if she might cry, which made me nervous. While I don’t fear gossip, news of me making a young girl cry would certainly tarnish my reputation — and possibly every mage's.

“He’s gone!” she finally replied, blinking back tears, though I was already sweating with fear. I dreaded nothing more than a child’s tears — they're the stuff of nightmares.

“Dead?” I guessed. Considering her age, her grandfather must have been old; dying of some illness wouldn’t be surprising. But why had the old man left such an odd promise behind, causing me to be plagued by this troublesome girl?

“Will you teach me magic?” She gazed at me with those pleading eyes again, but I shook my head.

“Why not?” Her naive expression amused me; she had no idea how hard the path of magic was. Fine, I would find some excuse to get rid of her.

“Magic can only be learned by those of the right bloodline!” But as soon as I spoke, I realized I’d made a mistake.

“I do! My grandfather was a mage. Even though my mother wasn’t, I should have the right blood!”

“I’m a wandering mage. I do nothing without payment!”

“I don’t have money... but would something valuable do?” She faltered, her voice timid.

“What do you have?” For a moment, greed clouded my mind. May the gods forgive me — I was actually tempted to swindle a child. I suddenly remembered that nobles often possess great wealth, and this girl might have some rare treasure whose value she didn't understand. Reflecting later, I realized it was a moment of utter disgrace driven by desire.

“This…” She produced a bracelet, and the enormous sapphire instantly dazzled my eyes.

“A sapphire? So large!” I turned the bracelet over in my hands. While I wasn’t overly concerned with wealth or treasure (well, not overly — perhaps an eight or nine out of ten), this sapphire captivated me. To ordinary eyes, there might be little difference between one gem and another, but to a mage, sapphires were special. They could amplify magic, not useful in battle but indispensable for magical research and experimentation. A sapphire this large was indeed a rare prize. Though I was wandering — no, exploring — for now, I knew I would tire of it one day. In short, when treasure appears, one cannot simply turn it away.

“Why do you want to learn magic?” I asked, putting down the bracelet. Outwardly, it seemed like an innocent question, but really I was trying to divert her attention from the gem.

“All the mages were defeated by the necromancer, even my grandfather. There isn't a single mage left in this country now. That’s why I want to learn magic — only by becoming a mage can I challenge the necromancer!”

“You'll die,” I told her flatly, murmuring an incantation under my breath. This trick had won me many things in the past — though in retrospect, I realize it was shameful.

“I’m not afraid! My grandfather always told me I had great potential and would become a powerful mage. As long as I learn magic, I’ll be able to avenge him and the others!”

She spoke earnestly, but I paid her no mind. My focus was entirely on my spell. When the incantation was complete, a spectral copy of the bracelet appeared in my right hand. Identical in shape, feel, and weight, it would last for twenty-four hours unless struck hard.