Veltyen heard a chime from his portable communication crystal and pulled it out of his pocket. He was surprised to find Foria on the screen rather than Sery; he had not been aware she had the ability to connect to devices designed solely to communicate with a paired unit.

Foria looked uneasy. “Veltyen, there’s a job request for you.”

Adrenaline surged through him and Veltyen immediately went to gather his weapons. "Emergency? Where?" He was first call for certain dangerous situations in the region including hostage-taking and unstable building collapses, his defensive capabilities unmatched.

Foria lifted her hands in a slowing gesture. “No, not an emergency. Just… The request is from Lettia.”

Veltyen halted in surprise. “Lettia? What could they possibly need that a local mage couldn’t accomplish?” As the Guild Association headquarters for the Seven Kingdoms, Lettia was home to many of the most skilled and powerful mages on the planet.

Foria’s lips twisted. “That’s just it. This is… an escort request to a nearby village, a few hours’ round trip.”

Veltyen stared blankly at the screen, dumbfounded.

“That it came especially for you… Veltyen, I think you should take it, but be extremely careful about what you say and do while there.”

Veltyen’s initial rush of adrenaline twisted into something colder. He nodded. “I can play this game if I have to.”

Veltyen reported to the Guild Association headquarters a week later and was handed a set of clothing in the deep red that was their official colour. “If you could wear that for the duration of your mission,” the assistant requested, directing him to a change room.

Veltyen unfolded and examined the outfit. As he suspected, it matched the official uniform of the Guild Association guard, minus the insignia that denoted rank.

As far as subtle messages went, this was pretty much a scream.

After a moment of thought, Veltyen changed into the coat and pants provided, but kept his own sword belt and boots. He half expected the assistant to challenge his appearance, but he was merely directed to a courtyard where Magewhisper waited beside a saddled horse. While finely bred, the animal appeared to be chosen more for a placid nature than speed or looks.

Veltyen took up a formal posture next to Magewhisper and waited for whatever official he was to escort.

His face slackened in surprise when the Archmage himself strolled into the courtyard.

“Mr. Indei!” he greeted with a politician’s good cheer. “Good to see you. Shall we be off?” He mounted with passable grace and Veltyen belatedly followed suit on Magewhisper.

They headed out onto the streets. Veltyen was unsurprised to see a small escort of official Guild Association guards ride out with them and form a loose ring around the Archmage.

Despite his certainty that this job was just a pretext to bring him to Lettia, Veltyen stayed alert to any possible threats. The citizens seemed accustomed to seeing the Archmage on the streets, either calling out greetings or ignoring his passage, and he saw no hostile faces in the crowds.

Archmage Renglan smiled and waved with practiced ease. He said nothing until they were they were outside the city gates.

To Veltyen’s surprise, the other guards stopped at the city perimeter, leaving the Archmage’s protection entirely in his hands as they continued down the road that led to the nearby village of Eschun.

Renglan smiled. “Did you think this job request was entirely frivolous?”

Veltyen chose his words with care. “I didn’t think my protection alone would be considered sufficient.”

The Archmage gestured around to the flat grassland around them. “There is little chance of an ambush in this terrain, and I am quite able to defend myself outside of a surprise attack.”

Veltyen conceded the point with a nod. Renglan Scarei might take to political matters like a fish to water, but he was a six-star energy mage.

“Still, I’ll admit that I wanted to speak with you.”

This was unnervingly direct considering what he knew about Archmage Renglan. “I’m afraid I have little to interest someone of your knowledge and power,” Veltyen answered carefully.

“Nonsense. Materials magic turned towards combat is unusual enough, let alone at the five-star level.”

“I rank at four stars, Archmage.”

Renglan raised an eyebrow. “We both know that’s incorrect. I’ve seen your records. Last measured at age sixteen, and not a full effort try. I assume the fact that you were never remeasured is Ariela and Devlin’s doing.”

Veltyen remained silent.

“I’ve never understood their obsession with hiding their strength. Ariela never even stepped forward to be tested at the death of the last Archmage.”

It was news to Veltyen that Ariela was considered strong enough to be an Archmage candidate, but he kept his attention on the dangerous conversation at hand. “I think history has shown that power and prosperity do not go hand in hand,” he ventured.

The Archmage nodded. “I can’t disagree. Power alone does nothing. Proper planning is required to protect the things most important to us, don’t you agree?”

Veltyen’s mind flashed to Sery’s face. She had seen him off yesterday morning for his trip to Lettia. When he had bent down for a goodbye hug, she had kissed him on the cheek.

His focus returned to the present, but he could tell the Archmage had noticed the shift in attention. “…Yes,” Veltyen belatedly answered.

“Mr. Indei, you strike me as a man who values plain speech, so I shall be frank.

“I understand that you have become a guardian of sorts for Sery Holder. The role has no legal basis, but from what I have seen, you also hold an unrivalled influence over her in terms of emotional attachment.

“Despite offers of knowledge, prestige, and money, it is clear that Miss Holder would not voluntarily change guilds if it meant separating from you; conversely, were you to relocate, she would quickly follow suit, regardless of any affection she holds for other members of Eterna.

“I am interested in Miss Holder’s power coming under the influence of the Guild Association. I understand that that would mean convincing you to join us as well. I believe that the arrangement would benefit everyone involved.

“In terms of employment, I can offer work of any kind. If you would like to continue your current combat-oriented work, there is no lack of missions in this region. Or, I understand you are considering transitioning to a different career. Teaching, perhaps? Academy Oslethia is just a few streets away from headquarters.

“For Miss Holder, we have the largest library of magical texts in the Seven Kingdoms. She would have access to all the known quantities in Source magic, and the aid of theorists and experimental researchers to help her figure out the rest.”

Veltyen found himself growing tenser with each sentence. Whereas the other guilds clearly had selfish greed in their bids to acquire Sery’s power, Renglan’s words had an unyielding logic that made them impossible to dismiss out of hand.

“Finally, consider this: I have the knowledge and power to protect Miss Holder from any and all political maneuvering among the guilds. I give you my word that under the Guild Association, she would be free to pursue her own interests at her leisure and no one would be allowed to interfere with her daily activities or cause her undue distress. Can your guildmasters and their hidden power say the same?”

“…And what do you get out of this?” Veltyen finally asked.

“Several things. Stability among the guilds. Additional power and revenue for GA activities. Personal power and prestige. It would be a beneficial arrangement for everyone involved. I am a reasonable man, Mr. Indei. I see no reason others cannot prosper while I get the things I want. If you have any particular concerns or desires, I am sure we can come to an accommodation.”

“…Indeed, very reasonable. Would you allow me time to consider your offer?” Veltyen asked.

“Of course, of course. I’m sure that you would like to discuss matters with Miss Holder and your guildmasters as well.” The Archmage fell silent, continuing the ride with relaxed cheer.

***

Devlin gave his newest creation a final wipe with a polishing cloth before lifting it and giving it a few experimental swings. “Sery, hand me one of those iron rods, will you?”

Sery selected one of the finger-thick rods leaning against the workshop wall and passed it over.

Devlin held the rod horizontally in one hand. With the other, he swung the mage crystal sword in a light downwards chop.

The sword sliced cleanly through the rod, the severed end ringing against the floor.

“Sery, I do believe we’ve just created a priceless artifact,” Devlin said in a casual tone.

Sery did not think “priceless” could be used to describe something that had only taken a few afternoons of her effort and a few hours of Devlin’s concentration to program. “Do you think Veltyen will like it?” The sword was meant to have been Veltyen’s Longnight present, but Devlin had been forced to focus on other commissions around that time. Devlin had advised her to tell Veltyen that she was working on a present that would count both towards Longnight and his birthday, and she was concerned that it be good enough to count as two presents.

“I don’t think ‘like’ is what he’ll be feeling when he sees this, but he certainly won’t be disappointed. In fact, make sure I’m around when he opens it. I want to see if his face matches the one I made when you asked me to make this.”

Devlin activated the illusion that made the sword appear to be made of plain steel, then slid it into a well-crafted but plain scabbard. Sery thought the sword would be much prettier without the illusion, but Devlin had insisted that if she wanted the sword to be ‘useable’, the illusion was necessary.

The scabbard went into a rectangular box that Sery could decorate with wrapping paper. “Thank you,” said Sery.

“You’re very welcome. It was an interesting project,” said Devlin.

Sery’s sense of Veltyen suddenly strengthened as he entered her normal enna-sensing range. Lettia was distant enough that she could only get a vague sense of direction because she had spent so long learning the signature of Veltyen’s enna with her senses. “Veltyen’s back early!” she exclaimed as he approached at the speed of a mage-gallop.

“Hurry and hide it,” Devlin advised.

Sery nodded and hurried out of the workshop.

“I suppose I ought to write a paper about this,” Devlin mused to himself. “Maybe I can get Asher to do it for me.”

Sery was halfway out of the guild hall when she realized that if she went home to hide the present, her path would intersect with Veltyen’s. Changing direction, she went to the stables instead and entered Mindseye’s stall. “I have to hide this from Veltyen,” she explained to the mare, placing it in the back corner. Mindseye helped her cover the box with straw and disguise the lump it caused.

***

Veltyen’s thoughts circled fruitlessly as Magewhisper closed the final distance to Eterna’s guild hall at an easy canter.

Sery was happy at Eterna, the unprepossessing guild he had chosen as his own. She had Foria and Asher, Marielle and Tasielle, even Galen and Maurio to accept and support her. Devlin and Ariela were strong enough to not be afraid of the raw power Sery represented, generous enough to protect her without exploiting her.

But was she safe?

The past few months had been fairly quiet in terms of guild politics, but the Archmage’s offer made it clear that the scheming had not stopped at all, merely gone underground. Their guild was strong, stronger than it looked in the official rankings, but would that be enough if multiple guilds came after them? Would Sery be better off aligning her interests with the might of the Guild Association?

Even if Eterna could protect her, was that enough?

It was clear that Sery had an intelligence that could only be described as blinding. In ten months, she had gone from barely literate to reading the same esoteric academic journals Asher subscribed to. Veltyen knew for a fact that she had already read every book in the guild’s limited library that had even a passing reference to Source magic.

How would Sery feel in the years to come if she were to stay in this small town? Would she long for the Guild Association’s fabled archives, to discuss magic theory with the preeminent authorities on the subject?

The more Veltyen thought, the more it seemed that it would be in Sery’s best interest to move to a larger academic centre, whether Lettia or some other metropolis. He knew that as it stood, Sery would never move on without him, and conversely, he would not feel comfortable sending her off to a strange place alone.

So why was he hesitating? Was he just being selfish, not wanting to leave the comfortable life he had built for himself, or was there something he was overlooking in his deliberations that his gut was trying to warn him about?

He had no answers, merely questions upon questions that had his shoulders tensing until a faint headache crawled up the back of his neck.

Ambient magic told him that Sery was waiting in the stables, as she often was when he returned from a job. It partially eased his tension to see her happy and healthy; he had not yet harmed her with his decisions or lack thereof.

He dismounted and swept her into a hug. “I’m back,” he murmured.

“Welcome home,” she said, returning the hug.

He held on for a few seconds too long before letting go. Sery examined his expression with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really. I do have something to discuss with you, Ariela and Devlin when there’s time.”

The drop in ambient magic was far greater than Veltyen expected for his neutral statement. “What’s made you upset?” he asked bluntly. It was an approach that was not particularly effective, but he had not come up with a more successful alternative.

Sery shook her head. “It’s not important… I’ll go see if Ariela is busy…”

Veltyen stopped her retreat with hands on her shoulders. “Tell me?” he coaxed, ducking his head down to try to catch her lowered gaze.

“…just wanted you to have a happy birthday,” she mumbled.

The date had completely slipped Veltyen’s mind with all of his worries. “Oh yeah, that’s tomorrow. I don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s not like I did anything particularly commendable to be born.

“Turning twenty-five…” he mused. “How does it feel to be stuck with an old man like me?” he asked jokingly.

Veltyen paused at the strange look on Sery’s face. It was somewhere between a pout and an angry look, neither of which he had seen before.

Sery put a hand on each side of his face. “I’m not a child,” she said, clearly and distinctly.

“…No,” Veltyen agreed.

Sery went into Mindseye’s stall and came out with an oversized, rectangular box. She marched out without pausing, though she gave him the same look as she passed.

“…What just happened?” Veltyen asked Magewhisper.

The stallion just shook his head, as lost as he was.

Mindseye stuck her head out of her stall and gave the equine equivalent of a laugh.