One year later

I sat in The Rusty Bucket bouncing little Micah on my knee as her mother busied herself with the few people that patronized her establishment for dinner. Falia may have once been a great beauty, but years of hard work in a town with as little compassion as Vern had worn her down to a handsome one at best. Her hazel eyes had the sort of wariness that comes from experience with hard men and her back was bent ever so slightly at rest. Shots of white crawled through her otherwise lustrous brown hair, though to me, it just made her look wiser.

"Graaaaa." Micah blubbered at me.

"I think so too," I replied, "Though don't tell mother."

"I heard that you two!" Falia called from across the common room. Well, the common half-room maybe.

I glanced up at the four essence lanterns which I had made for Falia as a birthday present. In all honesty, they had been my first forays into the world of enchanting, and I had made them because I needed the practice. The making of the things had been personally expensive in the high grade materials required, but now Falia wouldn't have to worry about purchasing lamp oil.

While this show of wealth would certainly be terrible in any other lower-class inn, The Rusty Bucket was known to be patronized by the Merciful Alchemist. That would be me. People were known to leave with broken kneecaps if they bothered Falia.

I don't remember when my alias first appeared, but it was spoken in deferential terms by the common folk and adventurers alike in Vern. Last year I had begun tinkering with medical alchemy and had run into a stunning amount of success in the implementation of such. By combining the disciplines of herbalism with the pseudo-mystic art of alchemy, I had been able to create a variety of cheap, portable alternatives to the ever-scarce services of the town's resident white mage, Father Abraim Lyorcha.

Father Lyorcha didn't mind so much. He had told me in a lone moment that he was in fact grateful. The young featherling, the second weakest type of white mage, could barely keep up with the injuries which my alchemical medicine couldn't handle. Before that, there had been several deaths every month which could have easily been prevented. Now there were none such. Well, few anyway.

It was mildly embarrassing to walk down the street and have men and women twice your age make way for your passage. I honestly hated it and tried to hide my identity most days with a hooded cloak. Of course, doing so in the early summer heat was the best way to attract attention, but I was stubborn damn it!

"Penny for your thoughts?" Laurel asked, dropping onto the bench next to me and grimacing at the dark ale in her hands, "This stuff tastes foul you know."

"Then don't drink it." I offered brightly.

"There is no way that I'm coming to this place and not at least getting buzzed" She said, "How come you don't drink anyway?"

"Liver cirrhosis." I said blandly, looking down into my purified water.

The mug was another of my most recent creations. The water in Esturia was, and this was putting it generously, filthy. I finally got tired of the strange flavor, or absence thereof, of distilled water, so I finally gave in and convinced Father Lyorcha to let me look at the church's holy chalice. As I had suspected, it was an enchanted item, inscribed with a purification seal.

As a gray mage I am entirely incapable of using white magic. However, the complex trigonometry involved in the creation of the inscriptions used to create enchanted items is a way of sidestepping that particular flaw in my character, as long as two conditions are met.

One, I create the item myself. I have become a jack of many trades in the past year. It has cost me a lot of money to learn the basics from the various masters of Vern without having to apprentice with them, but it has been worth every last copper penny. My talent, that of unlimited potential, has come in handy there, as I seem to be able to pick up basics relatively quickly I only really hit roadblocks when I have to start working things out for myself.

Second, I have to make the inscription myself. This may seem self-explanatory, but the truth of the matter is that most mages with great souls pay a professional inscriber to work with them on making enchanted items. As a gray mage, this won't fly. My magic only works when I personally take part in the creation process.

At first glance, this seems like it could be the solution to all of my problems, right? Well, that would be wrong. Enchanting is very time consuming. Especially if you have to hand-craft the items involved and do all of the inscribing yourself. Beside that, enchanting is perhaps the most frustrating form of magic on the planet. Inscribing must be done perfectly, by which I mean, even the slightest deviation will result in several days' worth of wasted effort.

This cup, with a basic purification seal, took me over one-hundred hours of labor, and approximately five gold pennies in wasted materials alone. I don't have any real understanding of inscriptions. I've been working on it diligently, but it's like learning a whole new set of rules for physics. Except the physics is actually biology. Pretending to be philosophy.

It's a nightmare.

My musings were interrupted by a note which suddenly slid itself into my view on the rough wooden table.

"What's this?" I asked, keeping the precocious Micah away from the paper.

"It's a recommendation," Laurel said, "To the Collegia Alchemica."

I stared at it, "What am I supposed to do with it."

Laurel sighed and swatted the side of my head, "You take it to Aramor, the shining star of the kingdom, and you present it to the headmaster. He reads it, gives you a test, and you go in."

"Why can't I just train here with you?" I asked, "I think you're better than some stuffy old professors in a dark room. I've been to a university you know, it's not all it's cracked up to be."

"The Collegia Alchemica is associated with the both the Collegia Magico and the Collegia Academico." She said, "They share the same library."

"Library..." I pondered, "Is it full of books by Alchemico Mandrin? If that's the case, it may be time for a great burning."

Laurel snorted into her drink, "I believe Alchemico Mandrin has a dozen books in the library. That said, there are many more competent authors who have found their way into its halls."

"So you're shuffling me off?" I asked, "There's still so much I need to learn!"

"So much to learn?" Laurel asked derisively, "You do realize that I'm the one copying recipes out of your grimoire now, right?"

"That's because you keep setting the edges of yours on fire." I noted, looking suggestively at her ale.

She patted me affectionately on the head, "You're too kind to your washed-up old master Ethan. The truth is that you've gone beyond me. I may be a master alchemist, but I'm really just a cook who uses fancy materials. You understand the books on alchemical principals and theory that I've pretty much given up on."

"I told you to stop working with quicksilver," I pointed out, "And drink those purifying elixirs I made for you. You're not just a master alchemist, you're a great alchemist, o' master mine."

I must have said something wrong, because she grew silent at that. Micah was kind enough to fill in the silence while we both wallowed in our self-pity. When Laurel looked at me again, she had a hard look on her face.

"Do you know why I was sent to Vern?" She asked suddenly.

"Your stunning good looks?" I ventured, my smile accompanied by a gurgle from Micah.

Laurel ran a hand through her hair and smiled back at me, though her eyes grew no softer, "It's because I'm a washout. I completed my master training and tried for Alchemica. I cracked under the pressure and got transferred out here to where I could do the least harm to the good name of the guild."

I lightly hammered my fist on the table, "They were wrong master. You've done a lot of good in Vern."

She pointed at me, "You've done a lot of good here. I've been living day to day. Producing the same potions, curatives, and elixirs day in and day out. You blew through my lab and set my head swirling. I haven't turned a profit this large since... well, ever. People respect me again. I got a letter from the master of the Whelden guild office, the head there wanted some advice about a certain 'antibacterial salve' that had come out of my workshop."

"And?" I asked.

"I sent him your notes." She replied, "Copied of course. The point is that people are interested in the things you do, not the things that I do."

"And who was it that took in a lost, hopeless gray mage and turned him into an alchemist?" I asked.

She sighed, "I guess I can take credit for that one."

Micah screeched in reply, causing both of us to laugh.

"If I see far, it is because I stand on the shoulders of giants," I quoted, "Master, no matter how far I go in this strange world of Esturia, I will never forget the people who helped me when I needed it most."

I tilted my head towards Falia, "That's why I come here at least once a week these days. The food is... serviceable-"

"I heard that!" Falia yelled.

"-But Falia and Mike took me in at a time when they could have easily taken me for everything I had."

I took a moment to hug Micah close to me. She reciprocated by wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her head on my shoulder. It must be bed time.

"I can't do anything for Mike, but I can damn well do something for these two," I said, "And you needn't think I will forget you either master. Just keep taking those elixirs. I know it seems like you aren't getting any better, but they will help."

"They taste vile." She said.

"So does your cooking," I said, "But I don't complain."

"You..." Laurel growled, then put on a sickly sweet smile, "Did I mention that there is a one hundred gold penny tuition fee? Half is due on arrival, the other half at the end of the year."

I blanched, "So much?"

"Of course," She said, "I could always write you a letter of mark through the Alchemists' guild. If..."

I felt a growing sense of dread, "Please, no."

"Oh come now my beloved journeyman!" She pouted unconvincingly, "I know how much you love my rathound liver surprise!"

"I'm going to go put the baby down," I said, "And reconsider several of my life choices."

I ended up eating the liver, although I felt like I had sold myself at a low price the next morning. Proper treatment of monster meat rendered it edible, but not palatable.

XXXXXX

The third and final piece of enchanted equipment that I had built was an unassuming satchel. I had paid through the nose for a look at a passing merchant's strongbox and quickly copied down the two inscriptions placed upon it. After several weeks working with a local leather worker, I had managed to make a satchel bag. With just my gray magic empowering it, it was already slightly larger inside than it was outside. It also reduced the weight of any item placed inside of it.

With the addition of a storage inscription and a recall trigger tied to a small quartz crystal I wore on a thin steel band around my finger, it was the closest thing to a true bag of holding that I could construct right now. The space inside was rather large. The only real problem I had was remembering what exactly I had stored inside it, as items could only be recalled by speaking their name to the recall ring. I kept a notebook in my pocket with its current inventory.

Why am I bringing this up? Because today I had enlisted the assistance of every child in Firth's quarter, at the price of three coppers per child, to harvest every last piece of plant matter between Vern and the outer limits of the Darkwood, a place far less ominous during the day, despite its name. Abel, the young man I had saved from dying of appendicitis, had taken it upon himself to be my personal deputy, and had viciously haggled the kids down from five a piece.

It was good to have friends in low places.

"Has everybody got their sketches?" I asked.

The boys and girls nodded, bobbing up and down like racers preparing for the Olympics. I had made sure to distribute pictures of the various herbs I wanted among the groups. With luck on my side, I wouldn't need to purchase any of the flora native to Vern for a very long time.

I turned to Bern, "Lieutenant, I believe three silvers will cover the entry and exit fee for these rapscallions."

Bern rubbed his mustache, "Make it four, and I'll forget that you're letting kids out there."

I chuckled, we both knew it was safe. Nonetheless, I would be going out with them to be nearby, just in case. My newest walking stick was more than a little fortified by my magic, and I had been training with the good lieutenant.

The clink of silver signaled the start, and the kids were off, myself following after them at a steady trot.

The day passed swiftly, the kids making several return trips to me so that I could empty their full bags into the storage space. A party favorite to be sure. I called a halt two hours after noon, and my small army accompanied me back to the Southern gate, where lieutenant Bern was waiting.

"Ethan," He said in a formal tone, "I believe that something was left for you just inside. I'm afraid that you'll have to deal with it before you can travel beyond the immediate area of the gate."

I nodded grimly, "Of course captain."

The kids around me had grown quiet. They shuffled uncertainly, suddenly aware of the other guards standing around. I led the way inside to find a rather large box sitting on a table. With a flourish, Falia pulled the lid off to reveal a collection of cakes.

I regarded them calmly as the air around me grew tense, "I see. This is very serious. If only I had someone to help me dispose of these..."

Abel piped up, "You can count on us Ethan!"

I regarded them stonily, then nodded, "Very well Abel, I will leave it to you."

With screams of delight, the children descended upon the sugary feast. I had already paid the children in advance, but they would probably remember this moment long after those three coppers were well spent. Falia came to stand beside me, resting a hand on my arm.

"We're going to miss you." She said, indicating the girl strapped to her chest by a convoluted mess of fabric that I had taught her to use.

Micah gurgled in agreement.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm gonna miss you guys too."

"Mike would be proud of everything you've done." She said.

"Yeah," It was raining on my face for some reason, "I think so too."

XXXXXX

I would like to say that I made my getaway without further ado, but that would be a bald-faced lie. I did manage to evade anything that even remotely looked like a large-scale farewell. I know this sounds bad, but I hate saying goodbye, and I hate being the center of attention. That might be why my great soul chose to become a gray mage rather than something flashy like a pyromancer.

I should have remembered that Laurel was, in many ways, a much wiser woman than I was a cunning man.

"You really think that you can sneak out on me like that?" She asked, a letter held between two fingers as she waited by the Northern gate.

"I didn't want to make a fuss." I admitted, hanging my head down.

"I understand that from the village as a whole," She said, "But me, your beloved master, too?"

Beloved?

Laurel stepped up to me with a smile, "Besides, you'll need this if you want to get into the Collegia."

She brandished the letter and I reached for it. Before my fingers could close, she pulled it out of my reach.

"After you read this, I'm going to ask you one thing," She said, "Before I give it to you, you have to agree to do it."

I raised an eyebrow, "What exactly am I agreeing to here?"

She smiled, "It's nothing that you won't mind giving me. Besides, don't you owe your master after all of the work she has put into you?"

I sighed, "Fine. I really hope I don't regret this."

She grinned, then handed me the letter.

Master Rafe,

Upon consideration of the alchemical recipe you submitted on behalf of your journeyman, the Alchemists' guild finds no reason to bar the advancement of your student to the rank of full master, with all of the rights, privileges, and duties thereof.

Sincerely,

Southern Border District Office, Whelden

Inside was a pin, bearing the cup of alchemy, each of the four cardinal elements erupting from its depths.

Laurel stepped forward, "I'm very proud of you Ethan. I believe it is my right as your master to pin this on for the first time."

"Master..." I tried to say more, but no words would come.

She affixed the badge over my left breast, precisely at the point where the primary outflow track was found on her own body. I wondered if that was on purpose.

"Now," She said, stepping a little closer, "Master Dyre. I believe you owe me a favor."

"I seem to remember something like that." I muttered, "Although I will state for the court that it was made under duress."

"Noted," She said, then leaned forward, "Now kiss me."

Surprisingly, her lips tasted like cinnamon. I'm not ashamed to say that I gave her more than a brotherly farewell. She finally stepped back, both of us breathing heavily.

"I meant what I said about not sleeping with my students," Laurel said, "I didn't say anything about ex-students though. If you're ever back in Vern you should look me up. I'll finally get the chance to make you call me mistress."

With that, she threw me a wink and strode away. There was a distinct possibility that she was putting a little too much sway in her hips. But only a possibility. Maybe she was just practicing tightrope walking.

I briefly debated whether or not I should find a reason to stay in town for just another night. Although alluring, I think there is something to be said for letting some things age. Namely myself. I whistled a little tune to myself as I passed through the gates of Vern for the last time in a long while.

I made sure to place a rock on the cairn I had erected for Mike just outside the walls.