Tobi led Samuel, stooping low, out of the tent. The structure was about a foot taller than the average tent Samuel was used to so that he didn’t feel too tall for it, but even he had to duck down a little to avoid whacking his head on the horizontal pole that sat at the tent’s entrance. As he pushed aside the flap that separated him from the outside, he was greeted by a cool breeze on his face that was quite pleasant after the stifling heat of the tent.
They were beside one of the three lakes, though Samuel couldn’t tell which one. Roughly thirty tents, all similar in size and design to the one Samuel had occupied were clustered in a half-circle against the lake, leaving a large open common space along the sandy shore. People were all gathered around fires in this middle ground, chatting amicably amongst each other. They halted in their conversation, however, standing up and staring as they noticed Samuel and Tobi approaching.
They could have been druids, Samuel thought. Equally split between men and women, all of the people were wearing clothing made of hides and furs. They all stood with hunched shoulders and brooding expressions, and thought he could find little evidence of weaponry, they were clearly on edge. He immediately withdrew his own mana, so as to not make him seem like a threat.
Tobi, for some unknown reason, led him through the crowd, who all stepped aside without a single word, towards the opposite end of the curved line of tents. There, he could see a much larger, more ornate tent than the others. There were even two figures at the entrance, obviously acting as guards. They did not have to ask for entrance, however. When it was clear they were approaching, one of them pushed their head inside and spoke softly.
As Tobi and Samuel came to a stop, two figures exited the tent. It was clear at once, with their stature and the way others moved aside to give them plenty of space, that they were the ones in charge. The man, a tall elf with long brown hair that flowed freely down his back, wore furs that were sleeker and bright white, a marked difference from the rough, dark furs of his compatriots. His eyes were dark, almost black, and bore into Samuel with a fierce intensity.
“I see your master has awoken, little Tobi.” His voice was smooth as water, with a vague ethereal quality that was normally only present in ancient, powerful beings. Samuel knew at once that he was much, much older than his appearance seemed to suggest.
“Yes, Alpha Mage,” Tobi said, turning and waving one hand to indicate Samuel. “May I introduce you and your wife to Samuel Bragg, Champion of Arcana and Archmage of Knowledge from Gorteau.”
His wife was considerably shorter, though her proud bearing mitigated some of this. She didn’t look to be of elven descent, and her fair hair and blue eyes were set into a kind, sun-tanned face above a curious smile. This smile became one of welcome as Samuel looked at her, and she dipped her head in greeting but said nothing. Samuel nodded in return, but his eyes were almost instantly drawn again to the man, who had taken one step forward.
“I am Sivarn Inaro, leader of this colony,” He said, his voice rising slightly so that everyone in the crowd could hear him clearly. “You may address me either as Alpha Mage or as Tree Stalker, my unofficial title. I understand that Gorteauan mages place great importance on titles.”
Samuel, who had been about to bow, caught the condescending tone in his introduction and frowned slightly. “Not all Gorteauan mages, Tree Stalker. I am, in fact, considerably less fond of formal titles than many of my colleagues.”
His reply was obviously a surprise to both the man and the people gathered around him. He’d also been careful to use the more archaic sounding name offered, guessing that it was the appropriate way to address him. He could tell, by the surprised mutters that sprang up around him, that he was correct in thinking this. They were clearly expecting him to be stiff, formal, or even stuck up like the royal mages he’d met in the Capitol.
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The stern, unwavering expression on Sivarn’s face did not waver, and he silenced his people with one stern look. He didn’t seem angry at Samuel’s informal address, but his wife was smiling more broadly, now staring at Samuel with a look of quiet approval. Her husband drew himself up to his full height, standing half a head taller than either of the strangers in his camp.
“You speak as if you know of our ways and customs,” he said, taking another step forward so that they were within a foot of each other, his presence bearing down upon Samuel. “Who has schooled you in the ways of the Lupa people?”
The strange word, though it was his first time ever hearing it, sounded oddly familiar to Samuel’s ears. He hesitated a moment before replying, trying to figure out where he might have learned it. Then it struck him. Lupa was the word for ‘land’ in the Ancient language. So they were quite literally the ‘People of the Land’ then, he thought to himself. That did not surprise him, given how old and powerful the man before him seemed.
It also occurred to him that Sivarn’s actions and speech were clearly intended to intimidate him, to test his worth. Sivarn wanted to see if he would be cowed into submission, or stand tall and proud. It was a very common ritual among wild animals, though with the addition of his own potent mana, the display was significantly more frightening. Samuel stiffened slightly, then drew himself up, no longer slouching. They were of nearly equal height.
Samuel did not expand his own mana, but as he stared back into Sivarn’s eyes, it did burn more fiercely, and those around him, with the exception of Tobi and Sivarn’s wife, hurriedly took several steps back. It was as if two wolves of different tribes were snarling and snapping in a show of power, each attempting to establish dominance.
“Despite my young face, I am quite learned,” Samuel said, trying to make his voice sound deeper and more powerful. “I was taught by a certain wanderer, who knew many things of the secrets of the world.”
Sivarn’s stiff, formal expression was replaced by a broad grin, but it was not a friendly or welcoming image. It was very clearly the way a predator bared its teeth to what it thought of as prey. “A certain wanderer, were they? My people know a Wanderer. If you speak of him, then you speak of a powerful name.”
“I could speak of many powerful names,” Samuel replied, not allowing himself to show uncertainty. “I am matanda na, as you can very well see.”
Sivarn let out a rough laugh, then took a step back. “Yes, I can see. You are made of much sterner stuff than your student. Very well. I will accept your presence in my camp. As an outsider, you must prove yourself.”
He reached up and undid the ties on his outer robe with one hand, sweeping the garment off and handing it to his wife. Underneath the bulky cloth, he was built powerfully. His body was thickly muscled, and many scars were visible at his bare arms and what could be seen of his chest under the tunic. It was clear that he ruled by strength, beating down his enemies with superior strength.
“If you are victorious, I will grant you a gift,” Sivarn said, turning to face Samuel again. “But if you fail my test, you will bow your head.”
Samuel, to whom this did not come as a surprise, sighed inwardly. Why did everyone choose to settle their disagreements with fighting? He longed, briefly, to someday meet a leader who accepted logic and reason as defining qualities, rather than power. But he undid his patched outer robe as well, handing it to Tobi. His tunic was filthy underneath, from his violent fight against the chaotic mana.
Tobi took the garment without a word, and he and Samuel shared a nod of acceptance. They both knew that these were the mages Samuel had sought from the start, and if they were to gain a chance to learn from them, Samuel would have to be triumphant. Tobi withdrew from Samuel, moving several dozen yards away, as did Sivarn’s wife. Samuel returned to stand before Sivarn.
“Halika,” Samuel said quietly, calling his weapon forward. “Matandang Talim.”
The crystalline blade appeared in his hand, causing more mutters among the crowd. Sivarn’s eyes narrowed slightly as he saw it, much like Grimr had done more than a month ago. His grin returned, more amused than threatening.
“It seems you have an Ancient weapon at your disposal,” he said. “Who knew you could be worthy of the Mind’s favor. Very well, let us test your power.”