Reeve Mainard grimaced as he plopped down into the slush of mud and snow. First, his new cloak had been caked in a layer of flaking grime. And now, his freshly polished boots had fallen victim.

‘What was even the point…?’ His heart ached as he felt the shallow weight of his coin purse. He’d wanted to look good for his new appointment as an examiner and instructor, but the weather had seen it fit to render him a wet mongrel instead.

A warm breeze drifted through the damp fabric clinging lightly to his skin. It carried with it an earthy smell; fresh and light. Spring would be coming sooner than expected, but that only grated on Reeve’s nerves all the more.

He longed for the calming scent of his favorite lavender incense and the sterile chambers of the Tzalmere Sanctum. It was still hard for him to accept that soon, all of his hard-earned peace would be gone, intruded upon by a bunch of young and ignorant apprentices.

But... Lady Adelais had given him a choice. He could only live with the consequences of his decision now.

Sighing deeply, Reeve took the mare’s reins into his hand and sloshed over to the man waiting for him in front of the manor house.

Both the home and the man were rather unimpressive in his eyes. The architecture was uninspired. Weathered and rustic like the whole of this meager fiefdom. He supposed that it did have a certain charm to it. Some preferred the simplicity of the countryside, after all. But Reeve’s eyes were those of a city dweller through and through, and all he saw was a vast and empty land before him. Where could one find entertainment in a place like this?

“Welcome, honored representative.” The Magus deferred to him, bowing.

This was a simple act, but it carried a lot of meaning. Magi of the same Order — or even a lower one — would almost never bow to one another. But this man had. Reeve could respect that willingness. He felt that too many of his peers clung uselessly to a false sense of superiority; when in truth, they were nothing more than ants to the likes of the Marchioness. Their pride was useless in the face of real power and influence.

“Please, straighten yourself up. I think we share a similar fate — you and me.”

Looking somewhat bemused by his words, the man rose hesitantly.

Reeve revealed his intent by unmasking his aura. He smiled as understanding flashed through the greeter’s eyes.

Diluted. That the best word for them both. Men whose Seas of Nura had been flushed with impurities as a result of chugging down one too many poorly concocted elixirs in a foolish bid to push themselves toward the next cycle.

They were kindred spirits in that their ignorance and impatience led them into the service of another.

“Landon.” The man reached out his hand.

“Reeve,” he replied, accepting the proffered shake. Their eyes met, and nothing more needed to be said.

“Shall we head inside?” Landon gestured to the stairway behind them.

“Let’s.”

After beckoning for a nearby servant to receive Reeve’s steed, Landon ushered him into the manor’s entryway.

The hospitality was quite generous, he had to admit. A decent-looking maid received his cloak and boots for a wash while providing a pair of cozy slippers. And Lady Marwood was already waiting in the hall to offer some hot tea and hors d oeuvres.

While his eyes idly roamed around the building's interior, Reeve gratefully accepted the former but refused the latter. More valuable than anything was his time. He wished nothing more than to finish this visit quickly and move on to the next.

Fortunately, his hosts understood this point well. The Lady quickly dismissed herself while the Baron and his daughter were already prepared, waiting for him in the second-floor study.

They stood up from their seats with haste as he entered the room behind Landon.

“Greetings, Sir…” The colossal man positioned in front of the cold fireplace trailed off, waiting for him to offer up his name.

“...Reeve. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Marwood.” This time, it was Reeve’s turn to bow. He was in the presence of a Baron. One who had clearly advanced to the Second Order. That was something deserving of respect.

His hair stood on end as the man swept his vivid green eyes over him. He was both excited and terrified. Lady Adelais would be pleased to learn that the Baron had succeeded, but it was impossible for Reeve not to feel uncomfortable standing within an aura that so greatly eclipsed his own.

“It’s good to meet you as well, Sir Reeve. I appreciate you coming all the way out here. I know the journey is not an easy one from Frostrane.”

Reeve scoffed as he unslung his satchel and placed it down atop the empty table in the room. “I’ve long wished to experience more of the northern reaches. So for me, this was no trouble.” He wore his most gracious smile as he lied through his teeth.

The baron laughed at his words, holding his rumbling stomach with both hands. “You can speak freely with me, Sir Reeve. I won’t be offended.”

“Ah… I-I meant…” Reeve’s tongue flopped around uselessly in his mouth as he fiddled with the clasp on his bag.

“Father…” the young Madam glared reproachfully at the rosy-cheeked man, rescuing Reeve from his floundering.

Baron Marwood sighed. “My apologies. We’re here for business, not to satisfy my poor sense of humor.”

“It’s quite alright, Lord Marwood.” Coughing lightly into his hand, Reeve focused himself and swiftly retrieved the necessary examination tools. With care, he laid them out in the precise order of their use. Once satisfied with the arrangements, he glanced up and addressed the room, “Before we get into it, I’d like to clarify exactly what parameters I’ll be using to assess, Miss Marwood.”

“Of course!” Baron Marwood and his daughter moved over to the opposite end of the table. The girl looked curiously over the instruments, just as he’d seen all the candidates do before her. The man; however, had locked Reeve firmly in his sights. “But there’s one thing I’d like to ask first — if you’ll indulge me.”

“By all means…” he gestured for the Baron to continue.

“There’s another among my vassals, of a suitable age, that I’d like to have examined.”

Not unusual. Reeve saw the man’s eyes flicker to a dark corner of the room and his own soon followed.

Standing perfectly straight in the shadows cast by the crackling fireplace was a thin and unassuming young man. His deep-set brown eyes stared passively into the room, looking at no one in particular, but Reeve could feel a powerful spiritual perception originating from the boy, and it suddenly sliced through the shroud that clouded his Sea.

He shivered. There was something menacing about the way the boy had pried open his secrets so easily, though he knew it was mostly unintentional. It was like watching a novice swordsman practicing with a real blade for the first time. The young man wielded his perception roughly, forgetting that the edge was genuinely sharp should he have swung it in your direction.

“Stroud—!” standing off to the side, Landon hissed a warning.

The boy startled as the realization of what he’d just done dawned on his face. His mouth hung open awkwardly before he leaned over in a hurried bow. “Apologies, Sir Reeve. That was uncouth of me.”

Reeve held up his hands to demonstrate he took no offense. Then, he took a deep breath and continued on with his spiel, “It’s well within our purview to examine any who the Lord wishes. Though, I can’t promise any more than a reading of his affinities.”

“That is all we would ask,” Baron Marwood grimaced awkwardly as though embarrassed by something. But Reeve quickly put it out of his mind.

“Who would you like to start with?” he asked.

“Stroud, you’re up first.”

Reeve regarded the approaching boy with wariness.

***

'I've laid out all my cards, and I trust that this man will report to the Marchioness diligently. Now... all that remains is her decision. Based on my impression of her during our meeting, I have no doubt she'll remember me...'

The examination went about as well as Stroud could have hoped.

Despite the chill still lingering within the manor’s walls, the representative was sweating bullets. His silky, baby blue doublet had been dyed the deep azure shade of the sea, and he constantly sent glances into the corner where Stroud waited to observe Maeve’s results.

Landon had wanted to send him out of the room as soon as his reading was finished, but the Madam’s competitive spirit had been roused, and she insisted that he remain in the study — much to the examiner’s dismay.

The man was rattled. Unnerved. Just as Stroud wanted. Even if he would be stepping on Maeve’s toes by showing off his impressive affinities, he sought to leave a lasting impression that would make its way back to Lady Adelais.

Two trembling hands unlatched the metal box resting in the center of the desk. This would be the final step of the comprehensive exam.

A softly glowing crystal orb laid on a bed of feathers inside. It rolled to and fro playfully as the sputtering light of the candles landed upon it — almost as if it was engaging in a game of hide-and-seek with the hands that sought it out. By the time the visiting Magus had wrangled it, the table was covered in a smattering of the full, stark-white feathers.

He lifted the orb, chuckling dryly as he walked precariously around the desk to offer the capture to Maeve.

“Go on, take it. Quickly—” he urged, shaking the orb in front of Maeve’s wide eyes. She glanced around nervously before stretching out her hands while wincing and looking away. From her reaction, you might think that the man was about dump a horrifying insect into her grasp.

The perfectly round little creature leaped into her palms with none of the hesitations she was demonstrating and unhinged the gaping jaw that spanned its entire body. Dark and unfathomable, a hungry vortex churned within its body.

Stroud shuddered and pressed himself further into the corner until his back bumped against a wooden shelf.

“Feed it from your Spiritual Sea,” Reeve instructed as he dabbed away the moisture on his forehead with a cloth. Still, Maeve faltered. “It won’t hurt. Gluttonous Sprites are generally harmless. We only use them to measure the purity and quantity of a Magi’s Nura.”

A puff of gold mist sprung from Maeve’s hands without warning, scattering minuscule particles that were visible to the eye like a cloud of pollen. They floated gently in the air with streaks of green dancing in their midst.

The brief flash of light was immediately inhaled by the Sprite. And as a more controlled stream of energy followed, it continued sucking it up without pause. Rich gold light the color of honey swirled within the opaque body, drawing thin trails of smoke as emerald roots crawled along the sprite’s skin. Like a dry paintbrush meeting water, Maeve’s Nura dyed the creature her color.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, but one that was short-lived.

Reeve snatched the sprite out of the Madam’s grasp and stuffed it back into the box in a flurry of motion that Stroud found hard to follow. And as she stood rooted in place, panting, the man announced her results.

“Mixture of Sanctus and wood element gaseous Nura of moderate purity — approaching the first round of initial condensation and compression.”

To Stroud, those words meant nothing, but he suspected the result was good if the pleased smile Landon wore was any indication. Baron Marwood also struggled to keep his obvious joy from showing.

After finishing with his final notes, Reeve snapped up his journal and began stuffing his supplies back into his bag. “I think Lady Adelais will be most pleased with both candidates, but I can make no guarantees for a vassal. There is no need to have either participate in the upcoming Selections... Unless you plan to consider other Arcaniums — as is your right.”

“Not at all.” The Baron waved his hands. “We are most pleased with the terms of Lady Adelais’ offer.”

“That is most assuredly the best choice. I have seen the environment being prepared for the students with my own eyes. And I can say with confidence that there is no better within the Principality.” Reeve bowed again to Baron Marwood, holding his satchel against his chest with both arms. “I wish I could stay and share insights with such accomplished Magi as yourselves, but I must be off at once to my next meeting.”

The Baron sighed and clasped the man on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. “We appreciate you sharing your time to travel out here. Should you ever find yourself nearby again — for any reason — don’t hesitate to stop by. We would love to properly host you then, Sir Reeve.”

Landon voiced his agreement, “Indeed. I do hope our paths have the chance to cross once more.”

“I’m undeserving of your kindness.” Reeve tidied himself up, a smile creeping onto his face as he nodded to them both. “I’ll be working with the other instructors at the School, so Maeve is free to seek me out if she’s ever in need of assistance.”

“You have my thanks.”

Reeve shouldered his pack and turned to the door. “I’ll be off then. I wish you all good health and fortune in this new year.

As the old, rusted hinges of the door protested against their sudden movement, Stroud suppressed his eagerness in the shadows.