Talking about Verona had made Mar anxious to see her.  He hadn’t spoken to her in quite a while.  She had to be preparing for the trials, and knowing her Mar was certain to find her on the practice fields. That’s where she always spent the most time, and where Mar was sure to find her. He remembered years ago when they were two kids at the orphanage.

They used to sit at the edge of the fields and watch the mage’s blast targets and each other with spells. They would often try to analyze the mage’s they were watching, trying to figure out what spells they could cast and how many. At one point, they started betting pebbles they picked up on who would win what match, but they stopped that after Mar ended up gathering a huge pile for himself while Verona had to constantly scour the ground for more.

All the while they spent in each other’s company they talked about how they would become great mages. Maybe even senators of Orlem, establish their own clans. Or maybe even found one together. But it was not to be.

Mar gazed out over the familiar arena. “There she is.” He pointed her out to Yavin.

Sure, enough they could see her familiar long black hair waving the breeze as a wind spell from her dueling partner passed just inches by her face.  Unlike most battle mages who would opt for a shielding spell, Verona physically dodged her opponent’s attacks. This conserved magic, but required a degree of physical training most trainees were unwilling to undergo. Nevertheless, Verona had opted to train her body as well as her mind and was known to carry her signature longsword with her, which doubled as a wizard’s staff.

Mar sat on an old stump watching, Yavin sat near him. Mar didn’t want to interrupt her while she was in the middle of a fight, nor did he want to distract her with his attention. Mar tried to plaster a dull smile on his face, but every time he came here he couldn’t help but feel a little bit envious.

He had a passion for magic that was unrivaled, but he lacked any sort of innate talent.  Coming here to the mage’s training grounds always irritated him, but it was always worth it to see her.

With a thump, Verona blasted one of her two opponents out of the ring. His ally, deprived of aid from his comrade, was quickly overwhelmed. He was an air mage and threw up a wind barrier, but Verona simply altered her strategy from throwing fireballs to hurling rocks. That was the trouble with fighting an all-around skilled magic user. Elemental specialists all had a weakness for an opponent to exploit, but somebody with as diverse a spellset as Verona was practically impossible to fight like that. Verona was uniquely gifted in that she had at least some affinity for every element. As soon as an attack made it past his wind barrier the mage yielded, giving the victory to a grinning Verona. Her hair had been messed up by the fight, and she swept if back, revealing for an instant her ever-so-slightly pointed ears. She didn’t put her hair up in a bun or ponytail for a sparring session like most female mages because she liked to use it to obscure her ears. It seemed her last visit to the flesh mages was starting to wear off.

“Verona!” Mar shouted to get her attention.

She wiped sweat off her brow with the sleeve of her magus robes.  Though the main color was brown, for earth magic, she also had the tell-tale stripes of red, deep blue, and off-grey that symbolized each of the four elements.  While Mar lacked talent in any of the elements, Verona had abundant talent in all of them.

“Mar.” Verona replied with a slight smile.  “I haven’t seen you in a while.  How goes your studies?” She asked politely.

“Nearly finished. I graduate the same time as you, you know.”

“That’s right. I keep forgetting we go to the same school, and the same year technically. I never see you.”

“Hardly your fault. There’s few of us non-magical students as it is, and we’re mostly there for logistics purposes. If you ever needed a tutor for your magic history classes, or had to take a book from my section of the library you might would have seen me.”

“Mhm.” Verona mumbled. She knew that. She was just making small talk. “So… do you need money or something? I don’t mind givin—”

“No! Nothing like that.” Mar said in embarrassment.

Verona knew that Mar lived on the outskirts of the city. He also tutored and copied books, putting in quite a lot of work and even still he lived in one of Orlem’s poorest districts. He was in a very different situation from Verona, who had just moved into a small apartment in the Overhill district. Making money wasn’t simply a matter of putting work in though. Even as a seventeen year old mage still in training there was plenty of work Verona could do. Once a month Verona would go to the school’s job office and complete a single request. Usually she used earth magic to straighten out a building that had started settling, or break apart some rocks into gravel. Sometimes she used water magic to unclog the sewers. Regardless of what she did, she was always done an a few hours and walked away with what would be a year’s pay for a common laborer. It only took her twenty minutes and a bit of magic to make more money than Mar could by selling a dozen copies of books. For a while Mar had been sleeping on her couch, but eventually he insisted on getting his own place, despite having to move to a poor and somewhat dangerous neighborhood.

“The scribe’s guild stopped giving me trouble about copying books. Apparently since I add corrections, citations, translations, and commentary I’m technically writing a new edition for each book. In fact, the scribe’s guild even bought a few copies of my copies because people requesting my editions specifically. In fact, they said if I was willing to pay an initiation fee I could become a journeyman in their guild now, though with reduced privileges, and I’d never have the option to become a master since I wasn’t apprenticed through the guild. Neither am I allowed to open a shop, but the guild hands me the tedious work and I’ve got the rent all sorted out for my place now. You should come by some time!” Mar replied cheerily. “Exams are over now, and for most students brushing up on their magic history is the last thing on their mind. They’re too busy refining their spells for the trials coming up. Funny, when the magic students are busiest I have the least work.”

Verona laughed.  “I can relate.  I wish I could stay and talk, but this is my last day to practice before the Trials.”

“I’ll be rooting for you!  I’d love to be friends with Orlem’s newest senator, so if nothing else, win it for me!” Mar joked.

Verona smiled.  “Ha, I wish.  Every young mage in the city is competing though.  The odds of me becoming the next First Sorcerer, and an eventual member of the senate of mages is slim to none.”

“Bah” Mar waved his hand.  “You’ve got all four colors on your robes, don’t you?  How many other mages can say that?”

Verona shrugged.  “Out of the major players who’ll be competing? Two others. Oh no doubt there will be one or two skilled kids graduating from some of our puppet or colony cities, but historically Orlem’s own magi have dominated the top ten spots. I think I’m the best poly-element mage in a loose sense of the word, but more elements doesn’t mean better.  I can think of at least one mono-element mage for each color who could wipe the floor with me in their discipline.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Ah!  But nobody who could wipe the floor with you using all of them?” Mar questioned.  When Verona said nothing, Mar spoke confidently “And that’s why I’m betting a month’s rent on you!”

Verona grumbled something about gambling and bad habits. 

Then there was something between them that Mar had been unfamiliar with, but had grown more common every time they spoke. An awkward silence.

Luckily Yavin cleared her throat.

“Oh, I should introduce you to Yavin here.”

Verona rolled her eyes. “I’m not your mom Mar. You don’t need to introduce me to your girlfriend. Though to be honest I’m surprised you finally got one. I was beginning to suspect you played for the other team!”

“Ha ha.” Mar laughed sarcastically. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just somebody I met yesterday. She wanted to meet you.”

Verona frowned. “Meet me? Why?” She looked Yavin up and down suspiciously. “Are you a mage? You must be from outside of Orlem, since I don’t recognize you. You are scoping out the competition?”

“It’s not like that, Verona. She has this totem and she thought you could—” then Mar stopped and thought a moment. Why did he introduce her to a total stranger? For that matter why did he let a total stranger into his home, feed her, let her have his bed, and then give her his own clothes to wear? Mar furrowed his brow. The study of mental magic was a bit taboo, but it wasn’t unheard of. Most mages had a way to defend against it if they were prepared. Could he have been manipulated with magic?

Before Mar could voice his concerns, Yavin spoke up.

“While I admit part of the reason I came to this city now was because of the little tournament your city folk put together, that’s only because the event means that mages from all over Orlem’s sphere of influence would be making an appearance. The odds that I would meet a skilled crystal mage here was very high.”

Mar spoke up “You told me you were looking for some sort of hero? A genius of magic I thought you said!” Mar looked at her with accusatory eyes.

Yavin bit her lip. “Yes, I’m looking for that to, but before I can pass this burden on to the next guardian, I need to fix the damage done. For that I need a crystal mage. Thankfully this Darrik you told me about seems to be both.”

“Oh, so now you want observe my fiancé too?” Verona crossed her arms.

Yavin held up her open hands, not understanding why the two of them had turned against her.

“I don’t care about your silly trials! I just need to meet with this Darrik. I have heard he comes from a family of skilled crystal mages—”

“Blood mages.” Verona interrupted. “He comes from a family of blood mages. I’ve never heard of a crystal mage before.”

Yavin waved her hand. “They’re all related in terms of magic. I need to see if he is the one though. And whether he can repair the seal on the totem.” Yavin withdrew the disk from where it was hidden inside a pouch around her neck.

Verona’s eyes widened the moment she saw the artifact. “Is that a warlock’s totem?” Verona hissed. “You brought a warlock into the city!?”

“What? No, it’s not like that Verona! The thing is sealed! She wants to keep it that way and she—”

But Mar was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a familiar tall boy with fiery red magus robes. Darrik Pyrastern.

“Verona!” Darrik shouted.  “Here’s where you went. Are you ready for your next match?  Those last two you wiped out are spent for the week, but I have another few opponents lined up for you.” There was no trace of the cruel sadistic grin Darrik had shown Mar the previous night. Now he was nothing but a perfect gentleman. “Let’s try three at a time this round.” As he spoke, he slid up close to Verona, wrapping his arm around her.  Verona didn’t seem to resist.

Mar coughed loudly before Darrik decided to start groping her right in front of him. “Hello Darrik.” Mar said in as friendly a voice as he could muster.

“Oh!  You’re Verona’s little scribe . . . friend.  What was your name again?  Tar?  Flar?  Zar?”

“Verona calls me Mar, but my full name is Marus.” Mar replied evenly.  Verona could call him by his childhood nickname, but he certainly didn’t want to hear it from Darrik.

For a moment, Mar thought he saw a fleeting sad look pass across Verona’s face.  Verona wasn’t from a prestigious family, the elf-blood in her heritage was proof of that.  She was however an extraordinarily gifted magus, and therefor expected to marry high into Orlem’s social hierarchy.  Darrik came from the Pyrastern family, a name that was nearly synonymous with wealth and power, both magical and mundane.  And more recently, it also meant slave trading. Though it had been illegal for many centuries, the Pyrastern family was finally able to arrange for that legislature to be overturned, meaning they could finally bring their slaves into Orlem itself and raise their production of mana crystals to new heights.

Yavin stepped forward. “You must be Darrik.”

Darrik’s eyes rolled over to her. There was a brief flare of red in his eyes as he activated a visual spell. Mar recognized it. It was a blood magic spell that let the user see the veins and capillaries in a person, despite their clothing. It was originally developed to root out shape-shifters hiding among human populations, but it had other uses.

“A beastkin.” Darrik stated with a slight sneer. The others missed the contempt in his voice but Mar heard it loud and clear. “What business do you have with me, cat?”

Yavin ignored him. She looked him up and down, examining him. She paced in a circle around him, looking from all angles. This only served to irritate Darrik and when he spoke again he didn’t bother to hide his contemptuous tone.

“Well?” Darrik demanded.

Yavin shook her head sadly. “You’re not the one from my vision. Even accounting a few decades of growth and changes.”

“Just what were you looking for?” Verona interjected curiously.

“As Mar said, a genius of magic. And a competent crystal—err… blood mage.”

Darrik puffed out his chest and tilted his head upwards so that he was looking down his nose at Yavin. “Then it’s your lucky day. You’ve found both in me. What is it?”

Yavin looked hesitant. Verona spoke up for her. “She has a warlock’s totem. A sealed one that’s apparently becoming unsealed. She need a blood mage to seal it.”

“A warlock’s totem you say!?” Darrik exclaimed, a glitter in his eye.

“Yes… that’s right.” Yavin hesitantly opened her hand, displaying the stone in front of her.

Darrik stared at it quietly for a moment before he found words to speak. “…Yes… fixing the seal on such a low-level totem would be no issue for a mage of my caliber. Let me just take it back to my shop and—” Darrik reached a slightly shaking hand out towards the stone, but Yavin snatched her hand away.

“Sorry, but until I can properly pass this burden on, I am its keeper. I cannot be separated from this.” Yavin said sadly.

“I completely understand.” Darrik said through partially gritted teeth. “Why don’t you come to my family’s estate this evening? We can work on it together. Where are you staying?”

“At Mar’s place.” Yavin gestured to Mar, who was standing there with his arms crossed and scowling. Mar didn’t want to tell Darrik where he lived but there wasn’t really a way for him to wriggle out of this situation. Besides, Darrik could easily find out by himself if he wanted to by using his family’s resources.

“Vernon apartment complex. Just off the corner of …Dirtflea market” Mar said the name with a wince. The corner of Darrik’s mouth twitched upward.

“I’ll send a coach there. Though it I think I’ll have to rent one. None of my families are small enough to fit through the tight paths around those parts. Does that section of the city even have access to the floating paths?”

“Limited access, but yes. Really there’s no need for a coach though. She’ll be here at the academy with me for a while. There’s some work I need to do.”

“Very well. I’ll pick you up here instead.” Darrik said.

“Alright. Thank you.” Yavin said shyly.

“Wonderful. Now then Verona, I’m paying these mages by the hour to be your punching bags. Let’s not give them too much of a brake.”

Verona turned to Mar.  “I’ll talk to you latter Mar.  This is my last day to practice before the trials.  I hope I can see you in the stands.”

“Yeah . . . I’ll be right there cheering for you.” Mar replied, but Verona had already turned away. Darrik’s arm still around her waist.

Mar had no interest in staying and watching Verona spar.  At least not while Darrik and company was around.  In fact, Mar didn’t think he liked any of Verona’s magus ‘friends’.  He’d heard one or two of them derisively call her ‘that elf-bitch’ behind her back.  It’s a good thing they made sure Verona never was around to hear that insult.  Mar was one of the few people who knew that she dyed her naturally sunny-blond hair jet black, to distance herself as much as possible from her sun-elf heritage.

Mar glanced at her back, and Darrik’s arm around it. If only he’d been born a mage.