“So your dad left,” Anders said looking at the giant young man curled up like a ball on the rickety wooden floor of the hovel. The misaligned floor boards squeaked beneath his weight.

“That’s… that’s right.” Hazen said. “He doesn’t believe in me, he never believed in me. But I’m going to be a hero. I.. I gave up too much.”

“Sure, sure,” Anders muttered while picking out the lice in his gray mane and flicking it away. Getting the kid to go back to his old life was always a stretch. Anders figured that family could give the boy a new purpose, and get him out of his hair. But this was just sad.

“What should I do next Master?” Hazen said looking up, hope and despair written on his face in equal measure. His bright eyes glimmered with half-formed tears while his lips wobbled into a frown.

“Well, your sister is the Archmagus of one of the three most renowned Magical Orders. You could go to her and ask for work. I’m sure any task the Order of the Half Moon needs muscle strength and sword prowess for will be heroic,” Anders said. He smushed the next lice he picked out between his fingers. Maybe family still could get the boy out of his hair.

“I… I don’t know,” Hazen said.

“Huh?” Anders asked, scratching his hair one less time to make sure it was clear of the blood-sucking pests.

Hazen’s face reddened. This was the first time he’d disagreed with anything Anders said, except “go away.”

“I’ll see her,” Hazen said, leaping to his feet. The wooden planks screeched.

Anders sighed as the young man left. He thought that maybe the kid would make a decision for himself, besides deciding to be a hero.

***

Hazen stood outside the Headquarters of the Order of the Half Moon, right in the center of Harwich. True to the name, the compound was a semicircle, a half moon. Glowing yellow pillars outlined the Order’s territory, the space between them secured by a somewhat see-through magical wall. An eclectic series of structures were visible as shadows beyond the pillars- a castle with spires piercing the clouds, multiple arches, and more.

Hazen put a hand above the marble gate, the only physical structure between the pillars. It was riddled with images of the moon in multiple phases, with the half moon at the top. The Order was not subtle about its decorations.

He hesitated before touching the handle. Knowing what mages could do with wards, the moment he put his hand on it everyone inside would know he was there. Including Grace, the Archmagus herself. His sister

“What can I help you with?” asked a gentle voice behind him. He turned to see a lanky, thin, young woman wrapped in light green robes several sizes too large. “Why are you here?”

Hazen met her gaze. The glowing purple sparkle in her irises told him she saw lines of power that everyone else stumbled through blindly. She was a mage.

“Umm…” Hazen began. He thought of his little sister and imagined her meeting him with a sneer, an eye roll, a reminder of how he didn’t even know about mom. Or worse- he thought of her not letting him in.

“I’m here to find a mage for my adventuring party,” Hazen lied. His eyes widened as he processed what he'd said. Proper adventuring would be a great way to gain recognition and make a difference. A party could popularize his deeds and help him improve. He’d already gone on a number of quests without anyone knowing while training.

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“I’m looking for a mage to join me,” Hazen said again, and this time he was telling the truth. He’d have to apologize to his master for the change of plan, but he was sure Anders would understand.

“You’re an adventurer?” She asked scanning his shining armor and the worn hilt of the sacred blade visible above the leather scabbard.

He looked back at her confidently, straightening his posture and drawing himself to his full height. She flickered out of existence.

“What?” he exclaimed. He felt something, the slightest push of air in front of him, and he ducked.

The mage rematerialized, one hand outstretched into a dainty fist, poking the place where his head had been.

“You’re good,” she said grinning. “Can’t tell you how many muscle-heads there are who have terrible reaction times. What kind of quest are you going on? Why did you become an adventurer?”

She moved to push the gate open but he cried out “No!”

“Let’s talk at a coffee shop,” he said. The wards might be so sensistive they'd register him entering without him touching the door.

She squinted at him for a long moment. “Being afraid of the Order of the Half Moon isn’t the worst instinct,” she said at last and led him off, away from the pillars.

“I’m not going to lie,” she said as they plopped into the sturdy chairs in the scratched up coffee house. “I’m kind of glad I ran into you. I’ve been looking to do some more practical exercises with my magic, but the Order doesn’t send us out and about so easily. The Archmagus is young but she is sooo controlling.”

“Tell me about it,” Hazen said, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“To be honest... this will be my first official adventure,” he said. “I’ve trained for a long time, and I’ve done a ton of solo-quests, but I’ve never been employed by a guild house.”

“You're on the right track," she said. "Recruiting a mage isn’t a bad idea. An adventure party with just fighters, even when they are all experienced, is bound to fail. Breaking your way through city walls rarely works. You need finesse, time, climbers, people on the inside. A siege and then some.”

“There’s a quest to besiege a city?” Hazen asked.

“No, no, its a metaphor.” she said with a laugh. “You strike me as a guy who would try to ram down the city walls with his head.”

Hazen shrugged. He had felled a few trees with his head at Anders’ request.

“I can establish us as an adventuring party,” the mage said. “We’ll need maybe two more people. Another brawler or knight, and someone who can fight from a distance. An archerer or gunpowder expert if we’re looking for damage and not accuracy. I know a bar-keep who might be a good fit as a brawler, and there’s this girl who’s an amazing shot- I might be able to convince her.”

“That’s great. You’ve thought of doing this even before I came by!” Hazen said, grinning as his half-baked plan came together without him doing anything.

“What about a rogue-type?” he asked. He was never subtle enough for that sort of work and it wasn’t public enough for him, but he couldn’t deny the appeal of the shadows.

“We don’t need that,” she said. “I specialize in illusion magic! Though I can also do a little bit of healing.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you then,” Hazen said, scoffing down the hot black liquid the barista left for him.

“You don’t even want to know who I am first?” the mage asked. “Though I guess I haven’t fully sussed you out either.”

“Uh… who are you then?” Hazen asked.

“My name is Rosalia,” she said with a small smile. “My dad was a magician- not a mage, just one of those old fashioned tricksters who makes coins disappear and pulls them from behind people’s ears. I used to love the little things he did, the slight of hand, the simple enchantment of playing pretend. He made a horse disappear once using a trapdoor; the village audience barely clapped but my cheeks hurt from all the smiling.

Then one day at his street-side show on bazaar day, he said that he himself would vanish- and he did! I couldn't find him behind the silvery sheet he flashed in the air for the trick, at home, or anywhere.

I figured that maybe he used real magic by accident, so he couldn’t be found. It happens sometimes to stage performers- sometimes you actually do what you claim to do, and have no idea how. I imagined him teleported thousands of miles away, or became totally invisible but was standing right beside me.

I went to the Mystical Academy of the Order of Half Moon to study illusion magic, to figure out what my father accidentally did. And that’s how I ended up here, and it’s why I might not have the best defensive spells but I’m the best hide and seek player around. The Dark Lord himself sought me out to conduct an assassination, but I hid from his messengers too! He never risked bothering the Magical Orders too much, but to try and recruit me he did.”

“That’s incredible,” Hazen said as he imagined her wielding a knife while encircled completely by whirling shadows, her purple eyes gleaming like a creature from the nether world.

“Did you accomplish your goal?” he asked. “Did find and save your dad? Did you figure out which spell he cast?”

“Oh, he walked out on my mom and I and didn’t have the guts to tell us. Took me three years into my studies to figure that out. He actually found me first, to ask for money now that he knew I was an actual mage,” she spat.

“That’s terrible…” Hazen muttered.

“Right? People who leave and forget their family are totally the worst.”

“Yeah…” Hazen said.

“How about you?” she asked. “Mysterious brooding fighter, or do you have a past…?