Tobi led him through the doors and into the expansive marble-floored hall. Much of this room was the same as his last visit a century ago, Samuel noticed. It was crawling with more students walking between classes, their colors split between brown, grey, and red. There were no green robes in sight, Samuel noticed.

“What happened to the green robes?” He asked Tobi. “Or are all the Journeyman students locked in class?”

Tobi paused in his long stride to survey Samuel, a thoughtful frown on his face. “So it is true that you lived over a hundred years ago, then? Archmage Kiinor did make that claim, but you look nothing close to his age.”

Samuel came to a stop as well, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yes. I don’t feel up to explaining it, but it is true. What about the Journeyman students?”

“They removed the rank from the school eighty years ago. Now we only have Apprentices, Acolytes, and Adepts.”

That certainly made it easier to understand, Samuel thought. “Master is still blue, and Archmage white, correct?”

“Correct,” Tobi replied. He continued leading the way.

They passed the large wooden desk attended by a red-robed Adept. Samuel remembered his moment of testing too clearly. The College still used the same method, a wooden bowl of muddy water. When he’d been tested, the bowl had turned into crystal. He’d later found that it was a sign of his connection to Arcana and the school of Knowledge.

“I’ve always wondered,” Samuel said as they passed the desk. “Why is Knowledge recognized as a school? It has no unique magic to it.”

Tobi did not pause this time but replied smoothly. “From what I understand, there are two reasons. The first is in honor of Arcana. Also, the students of the school of Knowledge serve as record keepers.”

“Are there many students in the school of Knowledge?”

“Not many, no,” Tobi replied. “But please do not be discouraged. I’ve only met you, and I imagine you will draw many more to the school than that unpleasant Adept.”

The image of the snobbish man from the Heron Tavern came to mind. “I think I’ve met the person you mean. What is his name?”

Tobi began to climb a flight of spiral stairs that led, as Samuel had suspected, up to one of the Archmage’s towers. “Arthur Moran the third, I do believe.”

Samuel came to an abrupt halt. Tobi continued, unaware that he was not following. Of course, the name was familiar to him. It was the exact same as his former steward. Could this mean that the rude man he’d met was Arthur’s grandson? His name seemed to suggest that. Moran was a fairly common last name in the city, but Samuel was sure that he was correct in his assumption. Seems the stuffiness never left the family line, he thought with a sigh.

“Is there a problem, Samuel-san?” Tobi had reappeared.

“Not at all,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “I apologize.”

They climbed the spiral staircase in silence for a minute until they reached the top. Samuel of course found no difficulty in the task, thanks to his Ancient body. But he was interested to see that, unlike most mages who abhorred physical exertion, Tobi never flagged, and when they reached the landing before a heavy stone door, he seemed unaffected. He tilted his head slightly at Samuel’s scrutiny.

“Is there something wrong with my uniform?” He asked, glancing down to check his robes. “I tried my best to be presentable.”

“No,” Samuel quickly assured him. “I’m just surprised to see a mage who can move with such obvious balance and vigor. You strike me more as a warrior than a mage apprentice.”

A sly grin spread over the young man’s face. “Well thank you for noticing, Samuel-san. The truth is, I was raised as a warrior. My father has allowed me to study magic as well, under the condition that I pursue a style of combat that will serve me well in my duty.”

“And what do you consider to be your duty?” Samuel queried, impressed by the dedication. “A soldier?”

“Not quite. I serve as a member of Issho-Ni. Though I suppose you may not know what that is.”

“I do know,” Samuel said with a matching grin. “It is the group of men led by Shigeru.”

Tobi bobbed his head in agreement. “Indeed. Though it is odd to hear a stranger speak of my Captain in such familiar terms. Most refer to him as Lord or Master Tokugawa.”

Samuel waved a hand in brief dismissal. “I mean no offense by it. The truth is, I knew Shigeru as a young man.”

“Interesting,” Tobi said thoughtfully. “He has not told me this. Did you know him before or after he fought Neratas with his friend Grimr?”

“I fought with them then,” Samuel said, surprised to think that Shigeru hadn’t mentioned him before. Perhaps as one of the lower-ranked members of his group, Shigeru did not want to share such personal details. “But that is a story for another time.”

“Very well,” Tobi acquiesced with grace. “Then I suppose it is time for you to meet Archmage Kiinor. Or rather, see him again.”

Without another word of explanation, Tobi rapped his knuckles on the door three times. There was a pause, and then the door gave a soft click and swung inward. Standing behind it was an elderly man in bright white robes. His hair, once flaming red, was a distinguished silver in color. Despite his age, he stood tall and proud, only a head shorter than Samuel himself. As he spotted the pair standing at his threshold, he smiled widely in welcome.

“Welcome back to Milagre, Samuel,” he said, gesturing them inside. “Or I suppose Champion Bragg would be more appropriate now, given your distinguished title.”

Samuel stopped just inside the door, making sure to stay clear as it closed. He knew from experience that the doors of Archmage towers were extremely heavy, and had no desire to be crushed. He adjusted his robes after the hasty movement and offered the Archmage a slight bow.

“If you remember me at all, Erik, you know I dislike formal titles.” He said politely. “You are Erik Kiinor, are you not?”

“I’m honored that you remember me, Samuel,” Kiinor said. “As well as I remember your picky nature. Forgive me for having a little fun.”

“So you became Archmage after your grandfather,” Samuel commented. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you very much. Though truth be told, the post would have most certainly gone to my elder sister Cinda, had it not been for Astori’s recommendation.”

“You continued to be his student then. My condolences on your loss.”

“It was rough to hear the news,” Kiinor said sadly. “But his influence lives on in the College. Even twenty-four years later, I can still feel his piercing gaze on me when I make a mistake.”

The two shared a grin, then a moment of silence in memory of their teacher. Then Kiinor gestured Samuel and Tobi to two comfortable-looking armchairs placed before his desk. They sat with nods of gratitude, and the Archmage took his own chair behind the desk. The desk was bare save for a stack of parchment. The top sheet was full of figures, and the top bore a name. Most likely records on his students, Samuel thought.

“I’m sure you are wondering why I’ve summoned you.”

“The thought did occur to me,” Samuel agreed. “But as I intended to visit the College by the end of the week, it came with good timing. Though your apprentice did not seem to like the chore.”

Kiinor frowned slightly. “Apprentice Moran is not a very hard worker. I keep trying to find him new interests. He has a gifted mind, but he cannot apply himself to anything. I was quite stern with him once, and I regret it. He seems to fear me now.”

“I see,” Samuel said absent-mindedly. “Well, I’m sure you can manage it eventually. So why did you summon me?”

“Well, the answer to that is quite simple,” Kiinor said. “Now that you have returned to the world, it is only right that you receive honors that should have been yours long ago.”

Samuel blinked at him in shock and confusion, not sure what he meant by it. He opened his mouth to ask the first of dozens of questions that had just occurred to him but was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. At once, the stone became opaque and revealed the landing outside. A man was standing there. He was tall, taller than Samuel himself, with a dark black robe chased in silver trim. There was something unmistakably royal about him.

“Ah,” Kiinor said. “With excellent timing, as usual. Please come in, Prime Magus.”

Samuel whirled around to stare at Kiinor, sure he’d misheard. The Prime Magus? The strongest mage of the royal family, who was the final authority in the college? Kiinor’s face showed no sign of a joke, so Samuel returned his gaze to the newcomer. He pushed Kiinor’s door open with ease and stepped across his threshold.

“Good evening, Archmage Kiinor,” he said in a deep voice as he entered. “Apprentice Tokugawa, I see you are here as well. Well, is this him?”

“Yes sir,” Kiinor said, rising to his feet. “I present Samuel Bragg, Champion of Arcana to you, my lord.”

The Prime Magus studied Samuel for just a moment, measuring him up and down. He gave a brief nod as if confirming something for himself, then took two more steps forward, holding his hand out for Samuel to shake. Samuel returned the gesture, coming to his feet as well.

“Good evening, Master Bragg,” The man said. “My name is Aren Gorteau, Prime Magus of the Mage’s Guild.”

“It is an honor to meet you, sir,” Samuel said. “I must confess, I was not expecting to meet royalty today.”

“I imagine not. But you may as well get used to it because you will be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

“Oh,” Samuel said, trying his best to sound pleased with the idea. “How do you mean?”

“I’m nominating you to the position of Archmage of Knowledge.”