Henry crinkled his eyes with a combination of disgust and irritation. His brother had taken out measuring tape to get the dimensions of the painting, which was now lying on the floor in the foyer.

  Ash stepped around it multiple times, muttering to himself in between taking measurements. After some time, he crouched down beside the painting and frowned.

  “It's going to be a tight fit.”

  “Tight fit for what, As-Guillermo?” Nima asked. He'd helped Ash take measurements while the others remained on the lawn with Cyrus and Jasper. Before Ash had gone back into the manor, he asked his former party to address him as Guillermo and Henry as Rutherford. He asked them to call him that multiple times so the mages who overheard Cyrus and Jasper call his name in the beginning would doubt themselves and think they misheard.

  His explanation was that he was trying to start a new career niche at the Guild, but didn’t want it to affect his reputation as a beast tamer. Henry was surprised everyone accepted the explanation so readily.

  Ash rubbed his brow. “Put it in the space bag.”

  Henry closed his eyes. I knew it.

  The only problem was that the painting, like all the other furniture and decorations remaining in the manor, still belonged to Bratcholok and family. Even if they managed to release the trapped spirits and bring the missing people back, the painting wasn’t their property to take.

  Yet Ash seemed determined to confiscate it.

  There were proper channels to go about obtaining the painting, but before Henry could stop Ash and remind him that they needed to contact Mr. Bratcholok first, a voice laughed from the threshold of the entryway doors.

  Henry looked over and saw the two men in purple robes standing just outside the doors with haughty expressions.

  “I thought you were some highly skilled mage to be able to get us out, but it seems we are mistaken,” the taller of the two said with sneer.

  “Anyone can look at that painting and know it won’t fit in a space bag,” the other one said.

  Henry took a deep breath. He knew there was a reason Ash abhorred the Magic Tower to the point of a centuries old blood feud, but why did the Magic Tower always seem to make it worse by merely speaking in front of Ash.

  “Perhaps the space bags the Magic Tower sells,” Nima replied in Ash’s defense.

  “To my knowledge, the Magic Tower does not sell any space bags anywhere near large enough to fit...that,” the shorter mage said, peering into the foyer.

  “If you were smart, you would simply take it apart,” the taller one added. “Or perhaps, you are concerned that you can’t put it back together?”

  “That’s quite a bold question coming from someone who’s afraid to step through the threshold,” Ash said in a calm, collected voice as remained crouching and looking at the painting. He lifted his head to look towards the door. “Why are you standing out there? Are you afraid that if you take a step through the doorway, you’ll be trapped again?”

  At his mocking tone, the two mages’ smirks fell and turned into scowls.

  “Rather than concern yourself with Guillermo’s curiosity, you should contact the Magic Tower to report that you are safe,” Cyrus said as he walked up the steps. “We should also contact the nearest Adventurer’s Guild to let them know.”

  “That’s right!” Soraya shouted from the lawn. “We won’t get paid until we confirm the quest has been completed!”

  Ash sighed. “All right, just let me pack this up. If we leave it here, someone else could become trapped.”

  Henry stared at the back of his brother’s head, wondering if Ash really believed that considering no one came up the hill unless they needed to, or if it was just an excuse.

  “Then, should I get the cover and help you wrap this up?” Nima asked, already heading towards the stairs.

  Ash shook his head. “No, then we’ll need to put it on the wagon, and it’ll just take too much room or fall off considering its height and width.” He reached into the smaller space preservation bag across his chest. “I got it.”

  He pulled out a familiar piece of cloth and began to unravel it along the bottom side of the painting.

  “What is that? Some sort of sling?” The mages craned their necks to come in and Henry squinted at them. It was obvious that since he, Ash, and Nima were all inside the manor that no one would get trapped in the painting again.

  It lacked the energy to do so after everyone came out, and Ash had disabled the metal around the doorframe that connected it to the metal frame of the painting, which synchronized the two. When the mages and many others had stepped out, being in the painting for so long did cause some disorientation and dizziness, so Henry and the others insisted they sit and rest.

  He thought the mages would be less affected because of their innate magic, but they’d sat around until now.

  He heard Ash let out a scoff. He looked towards his brother who looked at the two mages incredulously. “A sling? How exactly would I use a sling? Never mind carrying it on the wagon, it won’t fit through the double doors.” He let out a disgusted sound. “I can’t believe you didn’t even see that...looks like the mages from the Magic Tower are blind as well as mediocre.”

  He muttered the last part, but everyone heard it. The two mages flushed, appearing to want to rush in to confront Ash, but not getting past the threshold.

  Cyrus shook his head, and he squeezed between the two of them to get through without a hint of worry.

  “Is there anything I can do to help, Guillermo?” Cyrus asked.

  “Nima and I may need help adjusting this to get into the space,” Ash replied. “It’s not heavy, but the dimensions are awkward.” He continued to roll out the sheet. “Grab that corner and help me fold it out this way.”

  Cyrus did as he was told and as the sheet was spread, the geometric patterns and magic text painted on to the fabric were evident. Cyrus took in a sharp breath as his eyes widened. He almost froze partway through pulling the sheet open as he the patterns and text were revealed.

  “Did you make this?” he asked.

  Ash nodded. “Yeah, I needed something to allow for larger objects to be carried. It’s still a prototype, to be honest, but it’ll work for now.”

  Cyrus laughed. “You’ve been holding back!”

  The sheet was a square eight paces across. It was massive, but the text was small for its size. Henry couldn’t make sense of it, but he heard Simir’s voice praising Ash.

  “What is this?” Nima asked. He purposely stood between the doorway and the bottom of the sheet, blocking the view for the two mages.

  Cyrus seemed to understand without a word and joined him, further blocking the two mages from seeing Ash’s text. Henry was about to move to do the same, but Ash knelt down and activated the sheet. The text began to glow to magic energy spreading from the corner, where Ash had touched some of the text.

  Ash kept his eyes on the patterns and text until every stroke was glowing. Only then did he remove his hand. Once he did, the patterns began to move. Circles moved like gears, turning counterclockwise. First it was slow, but it quickly began to blur. The glowing was short-lived, and in its place was a black hole.

  “What is that?” A horrified cry came behind Cyrus and Nima. The two mages had finally dared to step inside. They rushed opposite Henry to see what Ash was doing.

  “It’s a space,” Ash replied in a voice that seemed to say it was obvious. He stood up and gave a nod to Cyrus and Nima. “Nima get the other side. Cyrus, can you go behind the panting and hold it up? Brace it so it leans at an angle. We’re going to slide it in.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Got it.”

  “Brother,” Ash addressed Henry in Lunapsar. “Make sure those other two don’t do anything to mess this up.”

  Henry replied with a small hum of acknowledgement. He would’ve done so without being asked.

  Ash counted from three and the trio heaved the large painting up. He gave them instructions and had Nima mirror is steps until they were just over the edge of the space hole. He and Nima kept firm grips as they lowered it carefully into the void while keeping it at an angle so Cyrus would not step inside.

  The process was slow in order to prevent any accidents. Ash hadn’t done any testing to see if anything living could be put into and taken out of the space as he’d been somewhat hesitant.

  Henry kept an eye on the two mages who, for the first time since they shook themselves out of nausea, looked on with surprise and interest. A small crowd had gathered by the door to watch, but no one said a word, as if afraid that the slightest noise would break their concentration and cause something to go wrong.

  Ash and Nima lowered the last portion of the painting, with Ash assuring Nima it was safe to put his arms in. Since Ash did it, Nima didn’t hesitate.

  “Now what?” Nima asked, once they were squatting forward, elbows deep into the space.

  “Let it go on the count of three,” Ash said. “One...two...three.” Nima pulled his arms out as if he were going to be sucked in if he remained a moment longer. Ash chuckled and removed his arm. He knelt down beside the sheet as Nima inspected his arms with awe.

  “It was cool inside, but there is no residue....” Nima said aloud. He glanced at Ash with some worry on his brow. “Are you sure there are no side effects?”

  Ash shook his head and deactivated the sheet. The void began to glow and spin clockwise, coming to a stop as each set of patterns and text lost their glow. As soon as the last glowing letter became black, Henry grabbed the corner of the sheet and folded it over.

  “Wait!”

  “Stop!” The two mages held out their arms and almost stumbled forward, faces filled with disappointment as Henry began folding the cloth like he was folding a bed sheet after doing laundry.

  One mage raised his arm and grasped his head, frustrated. “Why did you do that? We haven’t looked at it yet.”

  “I heard that the Magic Tower steals the work of unaffiliated mages,” Henry said as he held out his arms and shook out the wrinkles of the sheet before folding it in half once more. “My brother worked hard on this. I don’t want his hard work to be stolen.”

  The mages balked, but Ash beamed. “My brother loves me,” he told Cyrus shamelessly.

  “Put this away.” With the sheet folded neatly and then rolled into an arm-sized cylinder, Henry handed it to Ash.

  Still smiling, Ash took it and shoved it easily into his space preservation bag. He then looked at the mages smugly. “And now, I can move it.”

  A few people sounded impressed. Henry clapped his hands and looked around. “All right, let’s lock this up again. We need to send a report to the Guild and pay a visit to Mr. Bratcholok.” He looked towards a few of Bratcholok’s people standing by the door. “We had to do an exorcism here and due to the placement of the manor, it will only collect more wandering spirits and possibly malevolent beings, so we want to advise against keep the manor here.”

  “It’s a magnificent building, so if it can be moved to a better location, as long as it doesn’t attract dead energy, it should be fine,” Soraya said behind them.

  With Asal’s help, they ushered everyone out and locked the building. Those who were particularly shaken by the ordeal were allowed to sit on the ox drawn wagon, but those who could do so walked along behind it.

  As they came down the hill, Jasper agreed to help the workers return to Prem as soon as possible to report.

  “Your daughter was of great help,” Henry told the older man on the wagon. “It’s likely if it wasn’t for her escaping and providing much needed information, you would have been trapped in the painting for much longer, if not forever.”

  Mr. Iturralde, Miss Beatrice’s father, nodded. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s very shaken,” Henry said. “My brother and I went to see her to ask questions just the day before. She will be relieved to see you.”

  Mr. Iturralde nodded and threw Henry a thankful look. “I can’t thank you enough. What did you say your name was?”

  “Rutherford von Sails,” Henry replied. He motioned to Ash walking several paces behind him, chatting with Cyrus about magic while pointedly ignoring the mages that were trailing behind them. “And that is my brother Guillermo.” He paused and inwardly sighed, defeated. “...and together, we’re the von Sails brothers.”

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  The first thing they scheduled when they reached the town was transport back to Prem. The servants who were sent months earlier had arrived on several wagons from Prem, but those wagons and the horses that pulled them returned shortly after.

  The small town was easily able to rent out an ox and wagon to Soraya, as it was just one ox and one wagon, but carrying over thirty people would require at least four wagons. Five, if they wanted to be comfortable for the day long trek.

  It was already difficult finding a place for everyone to spend the night. The entire inn and some rooms above the tavern across the street had been bought out and several men crammed into a room.

  Asal’s adventure party also planned to join everyone to Prem, as Cyrus needed to report to the Adventurer’s Guild and the nearest one was in Prem. With the assistance of the township’s council, they were able to arrange for four wagons and oxen, as well as two horses to take them to Prem and then return.

  “Don’t worry,” Soraya had told them after she paid a deposit to reserve the wagons and animals with demas notes. “We’ll expense it.”

  That night, everyone was able to have a good meal. The townsfolk were quite excited to see that everyone had returned and the account of what happened spread through the town overnight. Of course, every time Henry heard it being told, the story wasn’t exactly what had happened. At first, he thought the men who had been trapped in the painting were purposely retelling the story incorrectly so as not to draw too much attention to Ash.

  “That’s not it,” Ash said, shaking his head. “They’re getting the haunting and the technology muddled, so it’s coming out as if it’s one thing and not two different problems.”

  “Are you sure?” Henry asked. Ash nodded.

  “They think the painting was a haunted magical item and that ghosts trapped them, but they needed help to get out,” Ash replied. “I overheard the mages saying that they needed magic to reactivate the painting after the ghosts were exorcised.”

  Henry crinkled his eyes, unsure of how to take that. “They’re not trying to diminish your credit, are they?”

  Ash immediately let out an indignant snort. “They can try!”

  Henry sighed. “All right, calm down. When we meet Mr. Bratcholok, don’t put too much importance on the painting or reveal that it’s a working object from the Cloud Continent.”

  Ash rolled his eyes and sat on his bed. “Brother, you’re underestimating me,” he said before falling back on the straw mattress. “I already have a plan to keep him in the dark about the painting and get to keep it.” He paused and looked at Henry’s suspicious face. “Legally.”

  The suspicion didn’t fall from Henry’s face. “Are you sure about that?”

  Ash choked back a snort. “Yes. Aunt Soraya and I already discussed it. She says she’s dealt with plenty of people like Mr. Bratcholok before and to just follow her lead.”

  The corner of Henry’s eye twitched, but he shoved aside his doubts. Soraya was a highly ranked and established exorcist, as well as a legitimate nun. She simply wouldn’t try to cheat the painting away.

  He should’ve known better.

  The regional manager of south central East Iveria’s Snake, Scarab, and Sons shops did not have the success she had without being to talk her way to what she wanted.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  After stopping by Prem’s Adventurer’s Guild to schedule a post-quest completion review, and get paid, they went to the Bratcholok house. The servants had gone there first and there was still plenty of commotion when they arrived.

  Soraya straightened her back even more and stepped forward, immediately drawing attention wearing her nun’s habit, and announcing that she was the exorcist involved in the quest. As soon as attention was on her, she requested an audience with Mr. Bratcholok.

  After giving a brief explanation of why the manor was haunted, she recommended that the owner move the manor.

  “Does it have to be moved?” Mr. Bratcholok was unsurprisingly resistant to the idea, but Soraya nodded.

  “The location is what causes the hauntings. It’s either you move the manor, or you do cleansings every few months and exorcisms every few years, as even while cleansings can lower the amount of spirits attracted and trapped into the home, it cannot ward them off indefinitely,” she told the old man. “And I must remind you that the holy order does not look too kindly on doing exorcisms for the same place, over and over, especially when it can be helped.”

  He lowered his eyes. “But my grandfather chose that spot. He said he fell in love with it, that’s why he was willing to spend the last of his years there.”

  “The decision is ultimately up to you,” Soraya told him without bias. “I can only give you my sincere recommendation.”

  He looked at her with concern. “Will the dead energy collected in the manor hurt me or my family?”

  Soraya took a deep breath and released it slowly. “There is a possibility. The energy could trap a particular malevolent spirit or even a demon, which can physically manifest and harm those in the house. In a more mundane, and likely, situation, the constant dead energy will weigh down on someone’s emotional and mental health, which can lead to physical health concerns. The more one is exposed to such things, the more one becomes sensitive to them.

  “This can be a problem as people will start to see things...feel things they can’t explain. Their ability to distinguish reality from their imagination becomes dull. They can have panic attacks, become unable to sleep, which will undoubtedly negatively affect their health. The sheer volume of energy that is collected in that house can cause visible health concerns.”

  Henry remained standing behind the chair where his aunt sat. One of the reasons why exorcists were so rare was that if they were not found in time, the ability to sense the dead could drive them crazy and cause their health to deteriorate rapidly.

  “My grandfather spent years there and he passed naturally,” Mr. Bratcholek argued, still unwilling to agree to a move. “Why were he and his staff all right?”

  “The house was new,” Soraya replied. “To put it simply, it took time for the dead energy to infiltrate a new house that had been blessed.”

  “My grandfather had the house blessed, yes, I remember.” It was a custom in many places for new homes to be blessed by the family’s religious leader or someone that had been sanctioned by the holy order.

  Every Snake, Scarab, and Sons tea shop was also cleansed and blessed before opening, usually by Soraya or Nera.

  “A new house that has been blessed has a sort of protective shield over it, but over time, it’s worn down. Now, the manor is exposed and is attracting dead spirits far too easily for me to be comfortable with,” Soraya replied. “That is why I am heavily suggesting moving the manor. I understand that it holds a lot of sentimental value, as well as is a beautiful piece of architecture, but if it were me....”

  She trailed off and Mr. Bratcholek frowned. “Sister Soraya, you may not understand the concerns of a wealthy family. That manor is part of my grandfather’s legacy.”

  Henry and Ash both seemed to grimace at the same time. Soraya’s demeanor turned cold. Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened into a line.

  “Wealthy?” Her eyes flickered around the small office lined with books on hardwood shelves. “Mr. Bratcholek, I fully understand the concerns of the wealthy. I’m a nun, but I came from money.”

  There was clear doubt on the man’s face. “Then, what is your surname, Sister Soraya?”

  Soraya leaned forward. “Pheris of Setareh.” Mr. Bratcholek let out a laugh, but she cut him off. “Perhaps you’ve heard of my grandfather, Grandduke Andrew Pheris of Setareh, or my father, his third son, Lord Chancellor Peter Pheris.” Mr. Bratcholek froze in his seat.

  Ash leaned towards Soraya. “I don’t think he believes you,” he whispered loudly.

  Henry drew in his lips and bit them to keep from laughing. Soraya’s glare bore into Mr. Bratcholek. “You don’t believe me.”

  He shook his head at the accusation but then let out an awkward laugh. “While I have heard of the Grandduke of Setareh and even the Lord Chancellor, to have a family member of theirs be a nun is a bit...unbelievable.”

  “What’s so unbelievable about it?” Soraya’s sharp voice made the older man flinch. “If you don’t believe me, here.” She slapped a travel document on the desk. She opened the booklet to the first page, which had her information and the insignia of the Pheris family, as if to remind whoever was reading it that the owner of that booklet had a powerful family behind it.

  Mr. Bratcholek first lost color and then flooded with it as he went through a range of emotions. Henry watched with some amusement as he tried to backtrack.

  The Grand duchy of Setareh within the Dareisol Empire traced its origins back to the unification period, where as a kingdom, in exchange for keeping their land and substantial power, they peacefully joined the empire. To this day, they enjoyed substantial influence and wealth.

  “I apologize....” Mr. Bratcholek let out an awkward laugh.

  Soraya narrowed her eyes and snatched her travel papers back. “At any rate, there are some items there that, due to their nature, should be removed-”

  “By all means, please take what is necessary!” Mr. Bratcholek raised his hands, appearing more earnest than before. “If there is anything that may attract ghosts or spirits or demons, remove it!”

  Soraya nodded. “There is one painting in particular-”

  “The one that Miss Iturralde spoke of?” Mr. Bratcholek seemed pale. “Then...it’s really haunted?” Neither Soraya nor Ash answered. They just stared at him with knowing expressions and Mr. Bratcholek took that as confirmation. He nodded held his hands in front of him in a pushing motion. “Take it away!”

  “Understood.” Soraya gave him a calm nod of her head and Henry glanced her way, a bit impressed. Ash appeared to be holding back a smile and was forcing a serious look on his face as Soraya explained the rest of the post-exorcism procedures.

  Ash then confirmed that the Guild would take care of the rest.

  They were thanked and as they mounted their horses and were two streets away from the Bratcholek house, Henry looked at Soraya.

  “So...the painting is Ash’s now?”

  “Consider it payment for his hard work deciphering it. You have to admit, no one else was going to figure it out any time soon,” Soraya said. A low, devious chuckle came from his brother.

  Henry’s eyes crinkled up with distaste. “Don’t laugh like that.”

  “Laugh like what?”

  “Like you’re plotting something bad.”

  Ash let out a scoff. “I’m not plotting anything bad. I’m just excited at the prospect of studying the painting. The fact that one can enter an artificial plane through a painting via a mirroring gateway is incredible! Do you know what possibilities this opens up?”

  “No-”

  “Entertainment value!” The excited look on Ash’s face did not reflect Henry’s deadpan one.

  “You know what, I’m not going to ask you to explain-”

  “Imagine being able to play a game, such as solving a mystery or battling an imaginary monster, in an artificial plane where you can’t really be physically injured. It would be fun and safe, for people of all ages. You know how Effie likes to play saleswoman or how she and Cio got really into that card game with the weird looking battle animals. I don’t know what they’re called-”

  “They’re called pouch creatures, and you can collect the cards,” Soraya said. “Personally, I prefer the dueling mythics game based off a comic. It has more complex game mechanics.”

  The brothers looked at her strangely. Henry pursed his lips. “I...I didn’t know you played children’s card games, Aunt.”

  “They’re not for children!” Soraya sat up, defensive. “It is much more complicated than pouch creatures, so the players tend to be older and more mature! And they’re not just strange looking animals, but high-level magicians and knights.”

  Ash squinted. “Is that the game with the cerulean-eyed pale serpent? Hana has that card framed in her room.”

  Soraya almost choked. “Hana has the ultra-rare, cerulean-eyed pale serpent?”

  Henry’s question was nothing like their aunt’s. “You’ve been inside Hana’s room?”

  “First, yes. She’s the reigning champion in Carthage Harbor as of the last local tournament. And second, yes, she sent me to get something while she was helping her brother in the smithy. Her mom let me in,” Ash replied. “She has a bunch of stuff on her wall.”

  Soraya nodded. “I will need to challenge her next time.”

  “Auntie told you not to casually walk into a woman’s room,” Henry chided. Ash gave them dismissive waves.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “She’ll be ecstatic when I show her the painting. I almost want to go back home to start.”

  “It’ll be a while. We still need to meet with the Guild, then I want to go back to the manor to do a final sweep and make sure there is nothing else there that we missed,” Soraya said. She paused and looked at Ash. “Perhaps there are more Cloud Continent items.”

  Ash’s face lit up. “Do you think there may be more?”

  “Many wealthy people in Dareisol considering Cloud Continent products a sign of success, even if those products don’t work,” Soraya said. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll find something else really good.”

  ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

  Ash didn’t find anything else really good.

  He couldn’t help his disappointment and was a bit depressed and listless as they took the main road south, to the capital city of Soljek. After they reported to the Guild and did the post-quest review, they were paid in full, a hefty tens of thousands dinari gold standard. In addition, Soraya was paid an additional fee for her specialty services from Mr. Bratcholek.

  The only thing that cheered Ash up was the knowledge that the Magic Tower was the one that paid for the quest.

  Unfortunately for Cyrus, because he did not complete the task, he could not receive payment. Ash still gave him a cut of his share despite Cyrus telling him it wasn’t necessary.

  “After all, you’re the one who saved us,” Cyrus gave him a helpless laugh. He pushed the bag of coins back to Ash.

  “It’s my money, I can do what I want with it,” Ash said, pushing it back. “Besides, I don’t want to carry around coin. I prefer the money sent directly to my account.”

  “Just accept it,” Asal said as they ate dinner. They were about a day’s travel from Soljek. Asal and the other adventurers were from the southern tip of East Iveria and needed to take a ship from Solyek Port. The land route was not only much longer, but would have to cross through Ashtar, which was unlikely to let the party travel through. “Ash wants you to have it.”

  “Think of it as reimbursement for the journey costs,” Ash told them.

  “Simply getting out alive and well is enough,” Cyrus replied, but still accepted the money.

  “Ash, are you sure you don’t want to join our party?” Jasper asked, raising a brow. “I know we’re quite a bit older than you, but don’t think we’re too old to do labor intensive adventuring.”

  Ash smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think that at all, but I have other responsibilities.”

  Farin chuckled. “To think, you’re a scion of the Atractas family.”

  “The more people who know the more troublesome it is,” Ash said with a shrug. “In addition, I’m participating in this year’s Invitational. Not to mention there are the new inns my family is opening. There is just so much to do, so little time.”

  “You must tell us how your exhibition goes,” Asal said. “A new method of land transport can revolutionize trade and travel.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “There are a few rooms above our shops that we’re evaluating the interiors of for the future inns,” Henry said. “When you’re in Solyek Port, show them the card. Let us know what you think of the room’s layout and decor.”

  “We plan to!” Nima said.

  “Ash, do you make any magic products for sale?” Cyrus asked. “I’ve been wanting to ask and since we’ll only be around you for another day or two, I thought I should ask before we part ways.”

  Ash scrunched his face and thought for a moment. “I recently took a request for a magic product under Guillermo von Sails, but it was made to order. Aside from the space preservation bags, of which I make custom and include a sort of user lock with a blood seal, I don’t really have anything ready made for sale.”

  “What about the slips?” Henry asked.

  Ash perked up. They were so common that Ash didn’t consider them actual products to be sold, but since his brother mentioned them, perhaps Cyrus and the others would be interested.

  “I do have a few more lips that are single use and can be activated with a blood drop,” he said, leaning forward. “If you’re interested.”

  “What do they do?” Cyrus asked.

  Ash fished around his bag and took out a small stack. “Several are light slips. I just find them the most useful, as they’re brighter than torches, last for days, and don’t release smoke. I have a few energy barriers and the rest are elemental slips.”

  He showed Cyrus a few by spreading them across the table between them. Jasper and Nima leaned forward to look at them. “How do you know which is which?” Nima asked.

  Cyrus tapped one of the cards. “They are debossed with magic text. You just have to look carefully. If you can read the text, they’re basically labeled.”

  “Right,” Ash nodded. “I thought about giving them notches or small holes to differentiate them, but that’s just another thing to memorize. It’s easier just to be able to read the magic text or separate them.”

  “Worst case scenario is to just bleed on one and see what happens,” Soraya said from the far end of the table.

  “How long do the elementals last?” Farin asked as she picked up one card to look at it. She pursed her lips and shrank in her seat. “...I can’t read magic text.”

  Cyrus rolled his eyes. “Then learn.”

  “It depends on the element,” Ash said. “I can explain each of them to you. Just tell me which one you want.”

  “How much are they?”

  Ash opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it. He frowned and looked up, to the side of the table. His brother and the others around the table went quiet and turned their attention to a tall man in the purple robes that Ash detested.

  He immediately narrowed his eyes and swept his arm across the table, gathering his slips against him like a hen swooping her chicks beneath her. “They’re not for sale.”

  The mage was a familiar man; the taller of the two mages they had met at the manor. He frowned. “You have plenty. Surely, you can afford to sell a few.”

  “Yes, I have plenty,” Ash replied in a sharp voice. “And I can choose who I sell them to, if I choose to sell them at all.”

  The mage lifted his chin. “Mr. von Sails, you are obviously an exceptionally talented young mage. I hesitated to invite you to apply to the Magic Tower because of your rudeness at the manor-”

  “Great, how rude do I need to be to keep you from inviting me?” Ash cut him off, his eyes locked with the man as he swept his cards back into his space preservation bag.

  Several people at the table, and at the surrounding tables, muffled their laughter as the mage’s face flushed with anger. He clenched his jaw and glared at Ash.

  “Do you know how lucky you have to be to be personally invited by a mage to apply for the Magic Tower?” he asked in a voice so condescending, Ash almost couldn’t believe the audacity.

  He took a deep breath and fastened his bag closed. He pushed his chair back and stood up. The mage was tall compared to his friend, who didn’t seem to be in the restaurant, but he was about eye level with Ash.

  “Let me make something very clear,” Ash said in a low, measured voice. “I wouldn’t apply to the Magic Tower if both grand mages prostrated themselves in front of me and begged me to.”

  “Ooohhh....” Gasps and low hisses came from all around him as Ash maintained his ground, meeting the mage’s arrogance with his own.

  For a moment, the mage didn’t seem to know how to react.

  While grand mages were not sacred beings whose titles were considered sacrilege when spoken, they were still so highly respected that their names were not spoken lightly, let alone with the thought that they would fall to their knees and beg.

  The mage’s face seemed to almost burn with anger as his hands clenched at his sides. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

  “I know very well,” Ash said. “The Magic Tower routinely exploits young mages, targets the creations of unaffiliated mages, and do not hesitate to steal research and magic technology. I’m not stupid. Once you get these slips of paper, you’re going to try to dissect them, and once you figure it out, which won’t be some magnificent feat, by the way. The papers in my hands are so simple, a child could figure out how they work. Once you figure out how they work, you’ll replicate them.

  “And you won’t replicate them well. They’ll be done cheaply, becoming more like lackluster counterfeits with half the effectiveness, if you’re lucky. And once they’re sold, will I get any credit? Will I get any money? Of course not. Not only am I not a member of the Magic Tower, but I’m young and unknown. I will be exploited and if I try to raise a complaint, the Magic Tower will try to drag my reputation under the mud, because as the monolithic magic powerhouse in the Iverias, it cannot afford to appear inferior to anyone.” Ash’s voice was cold and loud enough to fill the now silent restaurant floor. “Even if they are.”

  The mage was trembling in his spot. Dozens of eyes were on him, waiting for him to respond to the teenager. Ash didn’t show a hint of backing down. Why would he? He had more magic in his pinky than this man had in his entire body.

  Aside from Soraya, Cyrus, and Henry, who was taking casual sips of his beer and watching, everyone else was holding their breaths.

  The mage took a deep breath. He lifted his chin and seemed to force himself to relax. The redness on his face dulled, but he was still flushed pink.

  “Mr. von Sails, your words are unnecessarily harsh. The Magic Tower is not like what you said. They are a fair and honest institution-”

  “No, they’re not,” Cyrus cut him off. He lowered his beer stein and turned around, resting his arm over the back of his chair to look at the mage. “Many unaffiliated mages have met with exploitation or ruined careers because of the Magic Tower. This isn’t a secret amongst mages.”

  The mage looked Cyrus up and down. “You’re a mage, as well?”

  Cyrus gave him a nod. “When I was younger, rather than join the Magic Tower, I wanted to assist with healers at local temples and medical centers using my magic to try to develop tools. Fifteen years ago, I developed the suture pen, which allowed for healers of any type to consolidate their energy and fuse together torn or cut skin. It was slow, but it was faster than regular healing and was less prone to infection than traditional stitching of a wound.”

  Ash and Henry both looked at him with surprise. Ash felt his heart skip a beat as his surprise turned to awe. He’d seen that tool many times and there was no temple or medical center that didn’t have one in the Federation of Merchant Cities. It was incredibly useful and undoubtedly saved many lives.

  “That was yours?” Ash couldn't contain his awe. “Hana and I have been studying that...we need to talk after this!” He almost jumped with excitement.

  Cyrus gave him a thoughtful smile. “I’ve had some ideas on improvement about it, too.”

  “Wait a moment! Stop!” The mage threw his arms in the air. If he could get between the two he would’ve. “The suture pen was developed by the Magic Tower-”

  “After they took a handful of prototypes from the Zefar City Grand Temple, where I had donated the prototypes for both testing and use. And what was worse, when they sold them, the prices were astronomical,” Cyrus said. “I complained to the Magic Tower, but my claims were dismissed, saying that the Magic Tower had long been researching and designing a similar item. I said that since the two had been created independently of each other, then we could both sell it, but they sued me. At the time, I was as young as Guillermo, and I came from a common family. We didn’t have the money to fight the Magic Tower, but that doesn’t mean that the Magic Tower created the suture pen.”

  “If you don’t believe him, you can check the magistrate’s office of Zefar City, as well as the legal department of the Magic Tower. We also kept all the documents regarding this,” Asal said in a low, calm voice that made everyone assert it was the truth.

  Cyrus looked at Ash. “You once asked me why I didn’t join the Magic Tower. I said I could not get along with the Magic Tower. Now you know the reason I couldn’t get along with them.”

  Ash took a deep breath and held it for a moment. He knew the Magic Tower was an exploitative bully. He knew firsthand and secondhand how they stole and silenced other mages, but Cyrus had created the suture pen for the benefit of people, not for profit. The suture pens were not cheap.

  He and Hana were developing a similar version in Moonflower could produce that was more affordable.

  “Arrogant mages like you would not be able to have as wide a reach to sell products without the Magic Tower! If you joined them-”

  “Why would I join a guild of thieves?” Cyrus asked. His voice dripped with vitrol. “Should I be thankful that my work was stolen?”

  Ash gave Cyrus a nod of awe. If there was one thing he enjoyed more than trampling the Magic Tower, it was seeing others also trampling the Magic Tower in front of him.

  “How dare you!”

  Ash felt the collecting energy at the mage’s side before he could see it. He mage lifted his arm to slap Cyrus. A normal slap would have sufficed, but with magic, it could increase strength, causing serious injury, or worse. Cyrus had been adventuring for most of his life; he’d been through plenty of tumbles and had his fair share of injuries. He was still quite sturdy and could take a beating.

  But that didn’t mean Ash was going to let it happen. The mage seemed to move both quickly and in slow motion. His palm was raised, and a faint glow had collected around his hand. Ash reached out and grabbed the mage's hand, sealing the magic back inside the mage’s hand with his own.

  His grip tightened, squeezing the mage’s hand until the mage’s face twisted with pain and his shoulder and arm dropped. With a disgusted sneer, Ash threw the mage’s hand down, sending the mage down with it.

  “Stop right there!” Another voice shouted from across the room.

  Though Ash stopped and was only looming over the fallen mage, the owner of the voice, the shorter mage from the manor, threw out a fire ball.

  Cyrus shot to his feet. He threw out his own fireball, but instead of exploding upon impact, his fire consumed the mage’s fireball. With smooth movements of his hands, the fire curled into itself and dissipated well before it reached them. Ash looked over at Cyrus.

  Even when he was temp in their party, he knew Cyrus was a particularly good mage.

  He just didn’t know how good.

  Glee filled him. “You’re holding back, old man,” he said with a grin.

  The corner of Cyrus’ lips curled up. “Well...like you, I can’t reveal all my secrets at once, can I?”

  Ash laughed and looked back towards the shorter mage. His smile grew cold. “We’re done here,” he said. “I don’t think any of us want anything more to do with you two or the Magic Tower.”

  “You think you can attack a Magic Tower mage without consequence?” the shorter mage growled as his fists clenched at his sides.

  Ash crinkled his eyes, stunned and in disbelief at what he’d just heard. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who attacked us!” Every Magic Tower mage he met seemed to be even more delusional than the last. Was that the consequence of joining the Magic Tower? Loss of reason?

  The second mage didn’t seem to hear him or be reasonable. He threw his hand up and pointed at Ash with burning eyes. “I challenge you two to a mage’s duel!”

  Thank you for taking time to read!