Alex looked all around, his heart hammering.

Students were walking near, near enough to be within earshot, but Baelin’s deep voice was rising.

‘Why?’

‘What was he doing?’ Alex began to panic, frantically looking every which way, until…his brain turned back on. His mentor and chancellor had cast a spell just before his voice started rising. It was some sort of an illusion spell, but Alex had no clue as to what kind.

‘The only way to find out is to ask.’

“Did you just cast something to hide what we’re saying?” Alex asked.

“Indeed. I have not—in fact—taken leave of my senses and decided to expose your secret to the entirety of campus on a whim,” Baelin laughed. “Currently, to everyone surrounding us, it appears that I am merely giving you advice on how to master Ito’s Spiral since it’s been challenging your sanity. As a matter of fact, you are drawing attention to us by darting your head about like a frightened bird.”

Alex looked a little sheepish and regained his composure, bringing his focus back to Baelin. “Wait, how does an illusion create an entire conversation? How're you doing that? I get casting an illusion that makes random noise, but making a realistic sounding conversation needs constant mental input.”

“And so I am providing such input,” Baelin smiled. “One part of my mind is spinning a truly realistic conversation between us: a fun role playing exercise. While another part continues our discussion.”

“Wow. How do you divide your mind like that?” Alex asked.

“Usually, through decades of mental discipline and careful training. You have the foundation with your meditation techniques, but splitting the mind as it were, is a far trickier matter. With your Mark, though, I suspect you will be able to begin such a journey earlier than most. But, prepare accordingly before you try: attempting to split the focus and consciousness so utterly, can cause great mental damage if one is not ready.”

“Right…” Alex said, wondering if using a technique like that could shift the Mark’s interference into one stream of consciousness, while he also focused on fighting or spell-casting. He voiced the question to Baelin.

But the chancellor shook his head. “Such a thing might be worth the attempt, but even with your meditation techniques, you’re not able to fully divert your attention away from the Mark’s machinations, correct?”

“No,” Alex admitted.

“Mmmm, some mental magics can be overcome by partitioning the mind, but more powerful mental interferences spread through the entire consciousness—no matter how separated—by way of the soul. And your Mark seems attached to the very core of your being.”

“Right…well, that’s too bad, but it makes sense,” Alex grunted. “Still worth a try though…but that’s something I’verecognised as a big flaw with this whole plan of Uldar’s. So, most gifts that the Heroes get makes sense…they’re a badass strike force, and they’ve been given tools to be a badass strikeforce. But, they don’t have a choice. How come there’s no…choice? ”

“Indeed,” the chancellor said, steel entering his voice. “To force the young—or even the elderly—into such dire battles without having any agency of their own is simply asking for disaster. It’s no wonder Fools throughout the ages rebelled.”

“That’s another thing too, why are we always so young? Why eighteen?” Alex asked.

“Now, that actually makes an entire mountain of sense,” Baelin said. “If one looks at military science throughout the world and history, one finds that soldiers are often recruited at a young age. Such as 16 or 18. At that age, the mind is more malleable, but the body is physically resilient, mature, and powerful. It can be far easier to mould one into a loyal soldier by way of indoctrination…of course, such practices seem not to be used so readily on the Heroes of Thameland. Likely, the role of being a symbol for the people means they must maintain individuality in order to stand out and be inspirational.”

Baelin looked at the students walking by, fondness touched his face. “The young are often most inspirational to the young. Do you recall a conversation where I said that youth was unique?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, part of that is that youth is aspirational. To a young person, the story of another young person being seemingly selected at random for a great trial in their homeland, is more inspirational than say someone in their thirties or forties being selected. And to those selected? Thoughts of heroism and fame would be attractive. To older folk? Such excitement would be tempered by thoughts of abandoning lives they have spent years and decades building. It would not take hold nearly as well, I would think.”

The thought of that scenario was chilling, and had very…unsettling implications. “So Uldar picks the young because we’d be less likely to resist, and more likely to embrace our task and inspire other young folk to fight?”

“Indeed,” Baelin said.

“Jeez. But that doesn’t fit with giving the Fool flaws and not the other four. None of the legends mention other Marks having any downsides. Why only the Fool?”

“You are correct…it is strange, Alex,” Baelin looked at him closely. “But do you know why I believe it is strange?”

“Well, the obvious answer is that the whole concept of the Fool doesn’t make sense. In general. Why does one of the Heroes have major flaws when the rest do not? But…you’re asking me that question, so I think you might be considering something else…”

Alex thought through what Baelin had said about the Heroes being young.

Aspirational.

Looking forward.

But he didn’t really get the impression of being aspirational and looking forward from either Cedric, Hart or Drestra. They just seemed like they were living day to day. In Drestra’s case, it was pretty clear that she dreaded the whole thing and wasn’t looking forward to any of it...except the end.

That would’ve made sense from her but…something odd was slipping into Alex’s mind.

Power. It went back to power.

He was becoming more driven to what power could bring, to mastering its limits and to what it could achieve.

Their limi—

Oh.

“I think that by its very nature, the Mark of the Fool is a creation that makes you work to take advantage of it. You gain more power the more you work with the Mark, but with the other Marks, you get power right away. Sure, having all that power can help a Hero gain more, but it doesn’t help them learn new techniques faster. No new spells. No new…anything, which the Fool has to do by necessity.”

“Exactly,” Baelin said. “The others are largely stagnant. The Mark of the Champion in particular; it’s built on the principle of the successes of the past, rather than the future. Being granted all of the skills of every previous Champion is a grand thing…but as the cycles go on and the accumulated skill of hundreds of warriors is gifted to you, what incentive do you have to seek new techniques so the next Champion is even mightier.”

“Right…it all comes back to power doesn’t it,” Alex said. “You said that the greatest discoveries come from necessity. The Heroes don’t have any necessity because they don’t have any deficiencies to overcome. They don’t have to push themselves.”

“Not unless by personal choice. They do grow, but they do not have to push themselves in the same way you do. And that is what is strange about this entire situation. Why make one Mark based on growth and struggle, while the others are largely static…”

Baelin’s frown deepened. “I am becoming more convinced that we are not seeing something here. Some might even put blame on your god, calling him foolish for such a choice. But I do wonder…one does not usually gain such power, ascending to full godhood, by being an idiot.”

“Right.” Alex said. “You said it was natural for power to be addictive. For people to want more of it, right?”

“This desire occurs in many groups. Beyond just wizards, and even within those who wield any form of power. Wealthy merchants. High priests. Emperors and Empresses. Dragons. And indeed, wizards. When one has no power, one does not think much of it. When one has a little power…one learns the taste of growing one’s strength, knowledge, magic, wealth, realm…and so on. When one has great power, then one often focuses not only on obtaining more, but on bending one’s will to the protection of what they have. Indeed, that is why some burn their lives away embracing lichdom or seeking immortality. One who tills the earth for their livelihood might fear death, but has no choice but to embrace it. A mighty empress? She would have the resources and motive to extend her life forever. Why would she ever want to give up all the delicious power gained in the material world?”

Alex paid close attention to what he’d just heard.

His mind conjured scenarios where he became increasingly obsessed with growing his might and resources. He’d always been driven, and—if he thought about it—expanding his abilities accounted for a lot of what he focused on, what he did, and at times, bordered on extreme.

Harvesting mana from a mana vampire.

Planning raids on dungeons to get material for a staff.

Entering the Games of Roal.

These were all things he never would’ve considered when he was a simple baker’s assistant. Not even when he’d first become Alex the Fool. But Alex the Wizard was changing his perspective in all kinds of ways…and he hadn’t really acknowledged just how much.

“So, what do I do?” Alex asked Baelin. “You seem to have had a handle on your own quest for power. You seem satisfie—” He hesitated for a breath, considering the chancellor’s push to get the dungeon cores and his excitement at the possibility of a new revolution in magic.

He remembered what Baelin had said earlier.

About wearing disguises.

Maybe he had different motivations than Alex had assumed. That intimidating edge the ancient wizard had…it was always there. Hovering beneath the surface. Just like Uldar and the Ravener, he was a being from a far different time.

Alex wondered if the chancellor was a lot more ambitious than he was letting on.

“As for your question of power…the hunger for it,” Baelin said. “I would advise you to embrace it, but before you do. Codify your ethics to yourself. Make mental notes, write them down, or do whatever you must. Keep in mind what you are willing to do. What you are not willing to do and why, and under what circumstances those ethics might have to be readjusted. In essence, if you are mindful of yourself, then you shall be less likely to lose yourself. A Proper Wizard wields power. They do not let it wield them. Understand?”

“Right…” Alex said.

“And if you truly are concerned, keep your friends and loved ones close, use them as a compass to remain the person you want to be. But do not balk. Power will change you. And—if you manage it correctly—it will change you for the better. But that said, there might come a day when you will need to go against your loved ones. In that case, again, check your ethics. Check yourself. In the end, if you keep on track, the greatest expert on yourself…is indeed, you.”

Alex thought about what Baelin had been saying. There was a lot of sense in his words. Ethics and boundaries, but also the ability to challenge them. Support from others, but also have the backbone to stand up to them.

Even if he were to tread down darker paths, he could come back or at least still be Alex Roth in the end, even if he was changed.

No Irtyshenan Empire madness for him.

He looked up at Baelin. “Thanks…I think that makes a lot of sense. Um…”

“Hmmm, yeeees?”

“Who do you use?”

The chancellor looked at Alex closely. “For what purpose?”

“As your supports? To keep you from going too far? Who did you talk to when you were young?”

An odd shift went through the chancellor’s body language, far too quick for Alex to read. “Well, that is the irony of things. I had no one to give me such advice at your age. And…perhaps at one time I wished I did. But the me from backthen has undergone so many changes and transformations, that I am not sure if it truly matters anymore. I am me. I have my own cabal as you know, met and bonded over millennia. And now? Well, we at times guide each other…but only when necessary.”

“Really?” Alex said. “I’d actually thought you’d met them when you were young. Your cabal, I mean. And uh…for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you didn’t have the kind of mentor you might have wanted back then.”

Baelin snorted. “You apologise to me for something that literally occurred before the advent of…well, let us just say a long time ago. How adorable, you showing concern like that. As for those I met when I was young…”

The chancellor stopped walking, looking over Alex’s shoulder at an empty space on the green. His eyes grew distant. Wistful.

Alex’s eyes followed Baelin’s. “Is there something there?” he asked his ancient teacher.

“A tree,” Baelin said, his voice dropping low once more. “A lovely old tree once grew there. Long, long ago. I would meet someone beneath its branches.” He sighed. “But that was more lifetimes than it matters anymore. Take a final piece of advice, my young friend. Should you choose to extend your lifespan…well, ensure you know what you are doing. If you are not careful, then you might find that the things you love have a terrible habit of turning to dust.”

His beard-clasps clinked in the light wind. “And most mortals are not terribly fond of dust.”

The two wizards and the golem stood for a time.

Two watched only empty space.

The third saw something else.

Someone who had left his world long, long ago.