RFC-Miniarc-Mentors 4 (Patreon)

Despite the early hour, the Center Hall was a hub of activity. Robert observed the endless flow of casters entering and leaving the building as his thoughts wandered. With the completion of the qualifiers, he would be promoted to an acolyte. That meant no more mandatory classes.

Each of the students would take control of their own futures, selecting what to attend from a list of free classes arranged by the Hall. Instructors with laxer obligations would select new assistants from their previous pupils and pluck more ripe talent from the eager initiates. There would also be those no one liked to speak of, those who would flounder without firm direction, squandering their time and wasting their benefactors’ gold.

Many futures had already been decided by the qualifiers. The results were released, posted on several boards outside the Center Hall. Individual scores for each test along with the top one hundred combined scores.

He was beyond disgusted that Lourianne Tome was the top scoring initiate of his year. While she only scored in the top twenty for the written test and was in the middle of the group for the interviews, graded on a metric the instructors kept to themselves, her overwhelming display in the Sanctuary catapulted her to the top of the rankings, breaking the record previously held by Dunwayne himself. It didn’t matter that those points were likely obtained by another creature and bought with the blood of his mount. All anyone could see were the results.

Hopefully, her scores wouldn’t blind anyone to her perverse personality. He couldn’t imagine even the most patient instructor tolerating her rampant arrogance for very long. Besides that, she only had a basic fire affinity. Ironic someone so cocky had so little talent. The only thing remarkable about her was her wife, something that baffled him. While he could vaguely understand the idea that women may be attracted to other women, he didn’t understand how a woman like Kierra was interested in a bastard like Lou. If she weren’t married to that elf, she’d—

“Hey.”

Robert turned away from the window and met Cecile’s concerned gaze. She smiled hesitantly. “Worried about the meeting?”

“…a little.” Robert pushed the thoughts of the annoying woman from his mind. Lou was a thing of the past. Soon, the instructor arranged by his mentor would meet with him and he would start on the path of becoming the next Harvest Hero. She would probably become another waste of the Hall with her love of debauchery. He doubted he’d ever see her again. “What about you? How are you feeling?”

“Good days and bad.” She sighed. “Most of the time, it’s hard to believe. I keep waking up at an unsaintly hour thinking I have classes and am half-dressed before I remember our initiate year is over. That makes me remember the qualifiers and then…”

He made a sympathetic noise. Beside her, Lanston turned, eyes full of unreadable emotion.

Her smile softened. “Sebas was not a likable man. He was a proud, selfish, arrogant little shit.” She chuckled. “And he couldn’t stand being inferior to anyone. Idiot had his father engage us just because I flirt with you a bit.” She shook her head. “But…but he didn’t deserve to die, did he?”

“No,” Robert said softly.

“Sure, he made people want to punch him in the face just by breathing but he could have grown out of it. All he wanted was for someone to acknowledge him. To believe in him.” Her shoulders slumped. “Now…he’ll never get the chance, which is bad enough, but chalking it up to an accident is…that he died because some prick misfired his spell…” She met Robert’s gaze. “I know you don’t want to cause any more trouble but maybe we should let them investigate. Everything about that day was strange and suspicious.”

Robert huffed. “Look, the crown isn’t going to stop until they get to the bottom of everything. I’m concerned about us. No matter what, things don’t look good but an accident is far better for our reputations than getting bested by assassins.”

“Maybe.” Her tone was reluctant but he knew he could rely on her to do the right thing. Playing word games was distasteful and was only necessary because he failed in the first place. He still had his doubts about the events surrounding his friend’s death, and the parts certain individuals might have played in them, but none of that came before his future. He had to keep moving forward, for Sebas as well. All he could do for the past was promise to be better in the future.

“The initiate year is finally over!” he said, injecting some cheer into his voice. “I have a special tutor coming to the Hall to oversee my training. Did your father arrange the same thing?”

“…no. I’m no one to receive special attention.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Fighting…” She swallowed. “Throwing around fireballs and blowing things up sounds great until the consequences are shoved in your face. I think I’ll take a craft. Ugh. Here I was trying to avoid being a Guiness stereotype.”

“There is nothing wrong with being an artisan.” He cleared his throat. “My mother is a painter.”

“I remember. My grandfather has bought several of her works. How are you with a brush?”

“All of her talent was inherited by my sister. Didn’t leave a drop for me. Luckily, I inherited my parents’ magical talents and more, not that we knew at the time. My father was a guard and he taught me how to use a sword. I caught my mentor’s eye at a local youth tournament.”

“Little did he know, he’d stumbled on a treasure of the kingdom,” she said teasingly. She ignored his slight flush and turned to Lanston. “And what about you? Are you going to stick with him or do your own thing?” Her smile wilted. “I know what your family expects but if we’ve learned anything from this, it’s that life is too short.”

Lanston nodded slowly. His lips screwed up before he spoke in a quiet voice. “I want to study manabeasts and will focus my classes around that.”

“Your family isn’t going to be happy,” Robert said cautiously.

“My father will likely withdraw my tuition. I’ll have to find work before then.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something,” Cecile said. “If nothing else, I could see about getting you work at one of our stores for the end of the week. Or maybe the hotel in Quest.”

He grimaced. “I was thinking the Grand Library. As an assistant.”

“Maybe I should get a job,” Robert mused. Thorgood was his friend and his mount but the roc had also been an investment. An investment worth thousands of gold. He didn’t know if his mentor would forgive such a debt but he doubted another mount would be provided. Maybe nothing else would be provided. It would be best to start saving for his future adventures. No one wanted to slay dragons while dressed in rags and wearing down the soles of their shoes because they couldn’t afford good boots.

The carriage came to a stop, putting an end to their musings. Robert proceeded them out, holding out a hand to Cecile and closing the door behind Lanston. Orphelia finished a conversation with a servant and passed over the reins of the horses. She walked over to the others. “Are you all ready?”

“As we can be,” Robert answered for them.

“Then let’s get this over with.”

She led the way toward the entrance. As they walked, Robert caught a few gazes tracking them, more than one acolyte leaning toward their friends or hiding their words behind their hands. He swore he caught snippets of their conversations, the words ‘dead’, ‘royal’, and ‘five points’ standing out. His shoulders stiffened as he stomped forward, trying to keep his expression even.

Someone caught his attention as they neared the Center Hall. Standing in front of the doors was a man dressed in a silvery-blue robe with a bald head that caught the light. The most distinctive thing about him was the fact that his feet didn’t touch the ground, his body slightly dipping and rising as he used the wind affinity to elevate himself.

“Good morning, Master Aurelius,” Orphelia said cordially.

“Lady Yemen.” His gaze moved over their group. “Lord Lorriette. Mister Quintana. Lady Guiness.”

“Master Aurelius,” Robert repeated, bowing his head. It was the least respect the man was owed. He was a master caster. Robert, more than most, understood the dedication and brilliance needed to receive that title. It wasn’t just about coefficients. Anyone with enough time on their hands and the right knowledge could expand their mana core. The title required mastery over an affinity, something even his father who had toiled for decades as a soldier before working as a guard hadn’t achieved.

After Cecile and Lanston delivered their greetings, Aurelius announced, “Privacy has been requested for your meeting so I will be escorting you.” He waved for them to follow as he entered the building, the crowd parting without prompting.

“Can you tell us who is waiting for us?” Orphelia asked, ignoring the unspoken impropriety of the request.

“I would ask you not to involve me in your matters, Lady Yemen. This is something between yourselves and your guardians.” He led them up the stairs. Robert caught faint glimpses of the other floors reserved for acolytes as he followed the man to the top floor. They were stopped by an ornate door with the symbol of magic carved into it, a five-pointed star on top of a circle, complete the corresponding affinity stones.

Aurelius put his hand in the middle of the symbol. Robert gasped as hundreds of symbols lit up as the enchantment activated, the door swinging open. “If you have a mind for creating artifacts, there are several open classes on the subject,” Aurelius said, looking over his shoulder.

“I have enough to focus on as it is,” Robert said ruefully.

“Four affinities. Many would see your talent as a blessing but we know it comes with a great responsibility. Mastering one affinity takes a lifetime of dedication. Mastering four means four times that effort and even more to learn to combine them effectively. You have the potential for a bright future but only if you remain steadfast.”

“Thank you for your wisdom,” Robert said, feeling the truth in the words settle on his shoulders.

“No need. We’ve arrived.” Aurelius had them down the single hallway to the door on the end. He knocked three times and a voice called for them to enter.